


The Wolves of Winter

by StudentLoanSadness



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2018-11-21 19:56:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11364525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StudentLoanSadness/pseuds/StudentLoanSadness
Summary: Torrhen Stark is the twin sister of Robb Stark, and eldest daughter of Lord Ned and Lady Catelyn. She lived a simple life with her family in Winterfell until the King travels from the South and demands that her father becomes the Hand of the King and that Torrhen betroth the Kingslayer. Torrhen finds out that she and the Kingslayer have a lot in common, as neither of them are very happy with their arranged marriage, and they both have very little they are unwilling to do to protect their families and secrets.





	1. Chapter 1

Dawn broke over the castle of Winterfell. The pale sunrise slowly tiding over the remnants of another late summer night. A faint breeze caressing the land of the north around the castle of the ancient House Stark. A thin layer of snow covered the land, glistening in the early morning light. Quiet murmurs of the people living in the north getting up and starting their day of work. In the early dawn, Winterfell was a perfectly peaceful picturesque.

In the castle of Winterfell, Torrhen Stark bolted upright in her bed with her breath coming out in short gasps. Torrhen’s heartbeat hammered rapidly inside her chest as she shook violently. The heat from her dreams smothered her and unexplainable fear crippled her, leaving her unable to do anything but shake in the aftermath of the nightmare. It was rare to have such scary dreams like that. In fact, she couldn't remember the last night terror she had.

In a moment of sudden inspiration, Torrhen threw herself from her bed and fumbled over to the window and flung it open, letting in the cold morning air. Hanging her head out the window, she took deep breaths, filling her lungs with the frosty air of a late summer northern morning. She willed herself to forget the dream, and to focus on her surroundings. Looking out toward the rising sun, Torrhen gazes upon Winterfell, her home. The cold breeze and the layer of snow covering the grounds visibly calmed her down. The smell of the cold frost in the air coupled with the smoke from the fires in the homes of the people of Winterfell filled her lungs and brought a soft smile to her face. To her, it was the smell of safety, and happiness, and her home. The cold air against her flushed skin helped to relieve her of the nightmare as well. Spotting the stables, Torrhen decided to take an early morning ride. She wasted no time throwing on a dress, a cloak and running down to the stables.

Torrhen thundered out of the stables, riding on her soft brown horse that was gifted to her by her lord father Eddard Stark. The cold air bit at the skin on her face as it rushed past her, flying through her hair. She couldn’t help the grin made turned the corners of her face. Her heartbeat hammered in her chest again, but instead for the excitement that pulsed in her veins. The fear that she woke up with melted away as she rode through Hunters Gate and into the wolfswood. The freedom of riding around in the wolfswood in the early morning on horseback calmed Torrhen. She rode until she felt far enough away from her chamber in the castle, far enough away from that dreadful nightmare of heat, and fear, and the shadow of death. When she stopped, she stayed still, just breathing and listening to the sounds of the forest, enjoying the cool wind that swirled around her. She let the calm cold of the north surround her, and to flow through her, cleansing her of the nightmare. It was only a dream, it wasn’t real.

Eventually, she headed back to Winterfell. By the time she got back, the sun was fully in the sky and she knew that her absence at this early in the morning would be noted. Taking the horse back to the stables and passing it to the stable boy Hodor, who was taller than any man she knew but was a simpleton. Damaged, the only speech he was ever capable of was speaking his name, over and over again. He was terribly sweet, and extremely obedient, so the entire of Winterfell never bothered him. Torrhen then made her way to the Great Hall, where she knew her family was breaking their fasts. She decided to forget about the dream, knowing it was just that; a dream. Instead focused on a bright day ahead of her, filled with bickering siblings, praying in the Godswood and lessons with both her mother and father.

Pushing open the giant oak doors, Torrhen strode into the Great Hall with a bright smile on her face. “Good morning, dear family,” she announced, striding up to the table where her family sat.

“And where have you been this morn?” Her auburn haired mother, Catelyn Stark, asked from her seat beside her lord husband, Eddard Stark.

Torrhen’s mouth stretched into a brilliant smile. To her father’s left, she saw her twin brother Robb Stark smirk and shake his head at her affectionately, as if knowing her mischievous plan. ”I went for a ride out in the wolfswood,” she answered innocently, sitting between her younger siblings Sansa and Rickon and picking food out of the selection in front of her.

Her mother still held a disapproving look. “So early this morning? And by yourself?”

Torrhen shrugged. “No one else was awake.”

“So why were you?”

Again, Torrhen shrugged and filled her mouth with food. Her mother impressively held her disapproving look, though Torrhen was used to that. There was silence upon their table, each Stark child eating quietly as their mother scolded their eldest sister. Torrhen couldn’t meet her mother's stare, and instead met her father's hard gaze. His stone grey eyes meeting her stormy grey ones. Her rebellious mood dwindled as her lord father stared long and hard at her. And eventually she looked away from her father, meeting her mother’s Tully blue eyes instead.

“I apologise mother, but I had a bad dream and thought that an early morning ride would help clear my head. I will not do it again,” Torrhen apologized sincerely.

She looked up to her lady mother whose face had softened at her apology, but still a mask of seriousness. “That is all I ask,” her mother agreed.

“What was your dream about?” Torrhen’s twin brother Robb asked.

Torrhen hesitated. She had no recollection of what her dream was about. There was no images that she could recall, only crippling fear and overbearing heat. “I don’t remember. I only know that I was terrified when I woke up.”

“Old Nan says that when we have dreams that we don’t remember, it's because the gods sent the dream to the wrong person so they make us forget.” Bran said.

“Old Nan tells too many stories,” Ned Stark observed.

“Didn’t Old Nan tell you stories when you were a child, father?” Sansa asked innocently.

All the Stark children stared at their father expectantly. They had grown up to Old Nan’s stories about dazzling knights, the long winters, and the terrifying Others. Old Nan had been around longer than anyone in Winterfell, and wasn’t likely to die any time soon. She had a story for everything, and whenever any of the Stark children were sick or injured, Old Nan say dutifully by their side telling stories of the Aegon the Conqueror, or the old Kings of the North. The Stark loved Old Nan and her stories.

Their lord father chuckled. “Yes, she did. The same stories she told all of you, I’m sure.”

“I don’t think there is a person in Winterfell who hasn’t heard Old Nan’s stories,” Torrhen joked. “Anyway, what are we doing today?”

“Bran has his archery lessons today. And you are to join your sisters today in their lessons,” her father informed her pointedly.

“But I was a part of their lessons yesterday,” Torrhen complained, much to Robb’s amusement.

“If you want anyone to marry you, you need to be a proper lady Tori,” her little sister Sansa counselled from beside Torrhen.

“No one would want to marry me, sweet sister, because they’ll all want to marry you.”

Sansa giggled at her older sisters compliment, and their lady mother smiled affectionately at them. “And they’d all be too scared of Tori to actually marry her,” Robb teased from across the table.

The Stark children erupted in laughter. Even their parents were smiling at their eldest son’s joke. Torrhen glared at her twin brother, with the corners of her mouth twitching up into a smile as he laughed at his joke. Picking up a piece of bread, she tossed it at Robb’s head, who laughed and ducked out of the way.

The rest of the meal passed smoothly, each of the Stark children waiting for the parents to finish before they could leave their meal and continue with their day. Their lord father let them go before he finished his meal, growing weary of the bickering of Torrhen’s younger siblings, especially between Arya and Bran. The six Stark children left the Great Hall, as their parents watched affectionately, even with their Father’s weariness of the bickering.

* * *

News of the King and his court riding North travelled quickly throughout Winterfell. It sent its people into a flurry of activity as they readied themselves for the king’s court. Excitement bubbled through the air as each day passed. Lady Stark had taken it upon herself to ready the castle for its royal visitors. For the Stark children, each day passed too slowly as they were all excited to see King Robert for the first time. Their father had told them heroic stories of the great Robert Baratheon with his almost inhuman strength and handsome looks. How he defeated Prince Raegar at the Trident, and how he secured the Iron Throne. Each of the Stark children were in awe of their father’s oldest friend. It only excited them more for the king’s visit.

The day finally came when the southerners from Kingslanding arrived. The King’s court poured into the yard where the Stark family and their people stood, waiting for them. The Stark’s stood at the front of their flock of people. Torrhen stood between Robb and Sansa as the second born child and first born daughter of Eddard and Catelyn Stark. They stood tall, all standing with their heads held high. Torrhen wouldn’t deny how excited she felt. The King and half his bloody royal court come to Winterfell. Her lord father told them stories of King Robert Baratheon and his great rebellion against the mad king. She’d heard of his strength and his ferocity. The great stag of Storms End. The excitement that bubbled up inside of Torrhen’s stomach was justifiable.

And then she saw the King

The reality of the King she saw in front of her did not meet the expectation that her father had built up. As he trotted up on his horse, Torrhen couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor beast. The King seemed just as wide as his horse, and he had a thick black beard covering his face that no doubt hid a second chin. Torrhen could barely hide her disappointment.

“That’s the King?!” Torrhen hissed to her brother. Robb just shrugged in response, hiding his own surprise and disappointment.

Once the King dismounted and embraced their parents like old family, and they bowed and curtsied, and kissed the Queen’s hand, they began introducing the children to each other.

King Robert brought his children forward first, and introduced them. Prince Joffery, his eldest son and heir to the Iron Throne, barely a year older than Sansa. Princess Myrcella, his second born child and only daughter was introduced next, she would be the same age of Bran, Torrhen realized. And then there was Prince Tommen, the youngest child of King Robert and Queen Cersei. Torrhen stared at all three royal children, mildly surprised that all three children shared the same features of their mother, and almost none of their father. She nudged her brother who stood next to her.

“Prince Joffery looks like there is something foul smelling under his nose,” she whispered to Robb.

“That’s because we’re all under him, and the little princeling hates us” her brother whispered back.

“How do you know?” she questioned.

“By the look on his face, like someone put shit under his nose.”

Torrhen smothered a laugh. “I wager that I could beat him in a duel.”

Robb snickered quietly beside her. “I wager Arya could beat him in a duel. Bran as well. He’s probably never been in a real fight, not with the Hound guarding him.”

“Then Rickon could beat him in a duel.” The Stark twins smothered their laughter as their father and the King turned to them.

“These are my eldest children, twins, Robb and Torrhen.” their father introduced as Robb bowed to the King. “Robb is my first born son, eldest child and heir to Winterfell.”

“You’re a strong boy, I can tell. And handsome, too. You’ll have women lining up for you.” King Robert told Robb. Robb thanked King Robert politely, acting as every bit of a honorable lord that he was meant to be.

“And my daughter, Torrhen. Twin sister to Robb, and my first born daughter,” her father announced as the King stood in front of her.

Torrhen dipped into a curtsy with a soft smile on her face, playing the lady her mother wanted to her to be. “Your Grace,” she murmured politely. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew Robb was trying not to laugh beside her. He always made fun of her lady skills, however Torrhen thought she was quite good at acting like a lady.

“Ah, look at you, girl. You are a Stark, there’s no denying it. If it weren’t for your hair, I’d have mistaken you for your aunt Lyanna. She was beautiful like you,” King Robert commented.

“Thank you, your Grace,” Torrhen said politely. Her father had always said that she looked like her late aunt Lyanna, that she had her wild spirit as well.

King Robert’s mask fell for a moment, and she saw a glimpse of the heart broken man that lost the love of his life all those years ago. Beneath the crown and the face of a king, he seemed like the warrior who had lost everything in the war he had won. The King moved on, as her father introduced Sansa to him, and the Queen took his place of standing in front of her. Torrhen tried not to look startled at the Queen. Her Grace had been so quiet that Torrhen didn’t even realize she was next to her husband at all.

“Your Grace,” Torrhen tried to steady her voice as she dropped into a clumsy curtsy.

“Torrhen Stark,” Queen Cersei drawled, as if she was testing the name in her mouth. “The King who Knelt. Curious that you should be named after him. The King who rode for war, and ended up surrendering his crown. There are better Kings for you to be named after.”

Anger begun to bubble up within her, and Torrhen forced herself to keep her polite mask. “I believe King Torrhen was wise to surrender. Aegon the Conqueror would have eradicated the North if he had fought.”

Cersei’s soft face tightened in anger, her smile faltering and her green eyes sparking with anger. “A true king fights for his kingdom, no matter the cost,” she told Torrhen, her voice hardened with Torrhen’s insolence.

“You are older than I, and queen of the Seven Kingdoms so I only have a child's view on such things, and I agree with you. But I believe a true king should put the lives of his people first. King Torrhen knew he couldn’t win against Aegon, so he surrendered and his people lived.”

Cersei’s emerald eyes held fire as she glared at Torrhen fiercely. The lioness queen lived up to her reputation of having the pride of a king. She probably wasn’t used to people openly defying her, even Torrhen had done it politely as possible. As Cersei glared, Torrhen kept her face smooth, and her eyes calm. The queen moved on when it was clear Torrhen wasn’t going to yield to her glare. Torrhen stayed that way until the queen had moved far enough away that she felt safe to talk to Robb.

“I don’t think she likes me much,” Torrhen whispered to her brother.

“But the Kingslayer might,” Robb whispered back. Torrhen turned to look at her brother with a face full of confusion. “While you were talking with the queen, the Kingslayer was staring at you, even after the queen moved on.”

Torrhen looked over and met the emerald eyes of Ser Jaime Lannister, who was staring at her with a light smirk on his face. Concern and confusion flooded her as his smirk widened as he caught her eye. He looked too proud of himself, the Lannister Lion of Casterly Rock, the Kingslayer, the most handsome man in the Seven Kingdoms stared openly at her. She would be lying if she said it didn’t worry her.

The King told Lord Stark to take him down to the crypts to pay his respects, the queen protested saying that they should rest first, the King glared, the Kingslayer led her away and the King was left to do as he pleased. Her lady mother moved forward and welcomed them all to Winterfell, offering the show the royal family to their rooms to rest. The Stark children moved out of the way, bowing to the royal as they passed. Torrhen didn’t miss the look that passed between Prince Joffery and her sister, Sansa. She scrunched her face up in distaste.

“You saw that too?” Robb asked as they walked into the castle.

“With Sansa and the prince?” Torrhen questioned. Robb nodded his confirmation. “If Sansa wants to think that he is the brave knight in Old Nan’s stories, then let her. It’s not like it matters, they are only visiting. I suspect they are to leave by the weeks end.”

“You do not think the King thinks them to be married one day?”

“I am father’s first born daughter. I would marry the prince before Sansa does, and I hope that doesn’t happen.”

* * *

 

Meanwhile in the crypts of Winterfell after Eddard Stark had been named Hand of the King by Robert Baratheon, they had talked of marriage of Ned’s two eldest daughters. Robert was intent to join their families by their children, since they couldn’t be brothers through Robert’s intended marriage with the late Lyanna Stark.

“If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff will marry your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might have once done,” Robert commanded.

Ned was taken by surprise. Not only by the King suggesting that they join houses through the marriage of their children, but by having his eldest son marry his second born daughter. “Your Grace, Torrhen is my first born daughter, not Sansa.”

“I know who your first born daughter is, Ned. I stand by my statement, my Joff and your Sansa shall marry.” Robert berated.

Ned was confused. “What of Torrhen? Her little sister cannot be married before her, it would shame her.”

“Did you know the crown is in debt to the Lannisters? Too many damn gold dragons in debt, and Jon Arryn was discussing terms with Tywin Lannister to get rid a portion of the debt.”

“I don’t understand-” Ned started.

“Let me finish, damn you Ned. Jon told me Tywin Lannister wanted his son to be released from the Kingsguard and wed to a suitable woman so that he can become Lord of Casterly Rock after him for a third of the debt. Jon Arryn suggested the match with your Torrhen, uniting Houses Stark and Lannister to settle the bad blood between you two. Gods know there is too much of it.”

It was quiet for a moment as Ned contemplated the words from his oldest friend. “You want… to marry my daughter to the Kingslayer,” Ned spat the last word, disgusted.

“Damn it, Ned, it was Jon’s last act as Hand of the King! I’ll be damned if I don’t see to it that its done.”

“You want to marry my daughter to the Kingslayer!”

“No! I don’t want to marry your daughter to the Kingslayer! Jon Arryn did! And so did Tywin Lannister! It’s a chance to get them both off my mind! And she does have a choice in this! I wouldn’t marry your daughter off to the Lannisters by force, Ned, you know me better than that. Ask her if she wants to, and if she refuses then she won't have to. But I need you, Ned. I need you to get along with the Lannisters. Gods know if you two turn against each other, the realm with suffer. Think on it, I do not expect an answer on this matter straight away.”

Ned kept quiet as he stared at his friend, suddenly very worried about his eldest daughters fate. He was willing to let his daughter choose her own husband from the suitors that called for her almost every day, just as he would with Robb. He promised Torrhen to treat her the same as her brother, and yet here he stood with the King commanding him to give her to the Lannisters - to the Kingslayer.

“I will think on it tonight, and ask her tomorrow,” Ned told his King finally.

“She has the north in her, your girl. With the face of my Lyanna. I’d never sell her to the Lannisters if she didn’t wish it.”


	2. Chapter 2

Torrhen spent the rest of the day with her sisters. Sansa talked excitedly of the feast at sundown, and of the prince, and the beauty of the Queen. She didn’t stop talking actually. Arya made snide comments about it whenever she could. Especially when it came to the rumors of possible betrothal between Sansa and Prince Joffery. Those confused Torrhen. She was glad that were no rumors circulating about a possible betrothal of herself and Prince Joffery, but it made her worry. If Sansa was going to marry Prince Joffery, what would be her fate? Who was to be her intended?

Finally getting bored of Sansa’s talk, Torrhen decided to leave. “I’m going to find Robb,” she announced.

“But you need to get ready for the feast!” Sansa called after her.

“There is still plenty of time till the feast, I shall be back later for you to make me presentable,” Torrhen told her younger sister before walking out the door.

It didn’t take long to get to Robb’s chamber, he was a corridor away from Sansa’s chambers. All the Stark children lived in one area of the castle so their parents wouldn’t have to walk across the entire castle to find them. Although it ended up that way many times anyway. The Stark children were all very different, and often were away doing their own things unless they were in their lessons. With the exception of Robb and Torrhen, because understandably they were twins. The only time they were apart was when they had lessons, and even then they still spent time together because Torrhen was allowed to learn with her brother. She sat with Robb and her father as they talked about Winterfell, and how to rule it. She sparred with him in the yard, proving to be a better archer than her brother, though he was the better swordsman. Torrhen had spent her entire life next to her brother, and she couldn’t contemplate a reality where he wasn’t there for her.

She didn’t even bother knocking when she arrived at his room, just simply walked opened the door and walked in. “I hope you’re decent,” she said, walking in.

“You’ll come in even if I wasn’t,” Robb replied from the middle of the room.

“I would turn around and wait for you to at least put something on,” Torrhen argued.

“I don’t understand why it matters, we’re twins, it's not like we haven’t seen each other bare before.”

It was true, Torrhen agreed silently. But the last time she had seen her brother nude was years ago, before she flowered and became a woman. “It matters because I am a woman, and you are almost a man grown. We aren’t children anymore.”

“ _Almost_ a man grown? I am a man grown!” Robb protested.

Chuckling, Torrhen rolled her eyes and sat down heavily onto the chair in Robb’s room, looking around her. Strewn around his room was clothes. Different doublets, and breeches, and cloaks covered in the direwolf sigil. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for the feast tonight, you should be doing the same,” her brother advised.

Torrhen scoffed. “I have no one to impress, what does it matter what I wear?”

“You should aim to impress the King, maybe he would set you up with a good marriage?”

“Shouldn’t I impress the Queen for that?”

“She doesn’t like you, and I doubt that would change.”

There was silence for a moment as Torrhen contemplated her brothers words. The Queen did dislike her, before she said any words to Torrhen, she didn’t like her. Maybe the queen didn’t like anyone, she does seem like a bitter person. But Torrhen supposed being married to a king like Robert would make any woman turn bitter. That doesn’t excuse the fact that she was only bitter toward Torrhen.

“I wonder why she doesn’t like me?”

“You openly defied her,” Robb answered as if it were obvious.

“She insulted me!”

“She is the queen. She can do as she likes.”

Torrhen huffed in annoyance. “Did you hear about Sansa’s possible betrothal to Prince Joffery?”

She expected Robb to make a joke about it, instead his smile disappeared and he scowled. “Theon told me,” Torrhen rolled her eyes at that. “I don’t know why Sansa would want to marry him? He a spoiled little prince.”

“Who is going to become king one day,” Torrhen pointed out.

It was Robb’s turn to scoff this time. “I can’t imagine a worse responsibility. Who wants to become King of the Seven Kingdoms?”

“Joffery, obviously. And Sansa may become his queen.”

“I hope not,” Robb voice is dark and Torrhen realised that he really doesn’t like Joffery. She didn’t like Joffery, but she didn’t particularly dislike him that way her twin did. The entire royal family didn’t hold her interest to like or dislike them. Torrhen simply didn’t care about them, they could do whatever they wanted in Kingslanding, as long as it didn’t affect her.

“If Sansa is getting married to Joffery, then who are you marrying? Why would Sansa get married before you?” Robb asked and Torrhen just shrugged. “Maybe father finally agreed to let Theon marry you.”

A noise of distaste escaped Torrhen. “I sincerely hope not. I’d rather marry Hodor!”

Her twin laughed at her suggestion before sitting down next to her. “It wouldn’t be so bad, marrying Theon. We’ve grown up with him, it's better than marrying a complete stranger.”

“Well then you marry him! But leave me out of it.”

Another laugh came from Robb. “I’ve never understood why you don’t like Theon.”

“That’s because he isn’t constantly trying to into your breeches.”

“He’s only joking, you know.”

“That’s what he tell you so you don’t beat him to defend my honour.”

“Jon does that for me anyway.”

“Which proves that he is a better brother than you.”

Robb looked very offended at that statement, which made Torrhen laugh. Jon was a good brother, but she would never consider him a better brother to Robb. Robb was her twin brother, they were born together, they have been unable to be separate since then. Their mother told them when they were babes and anyone tried to take one of them out of the room without the other, there would be screaming from both babes. Even as they grew up, they shared a room until their parents deemed it inappropriate. But they still snuck into each other's room every now and again. Less so now that they were becoming adults.

Her brother pushed her as she was laughing, unable to stop himself from laughing.  They sat there, laughing at Torrhen’s lame joke. The door opened and their lord father stepped into the room. He frowned when he spotted Torrhen sitting in the room. The thought of his eldest daughter marrying the Kingslayer flashed through Ned’s mind and he resisted the urge to cringe. “What are you doing in here? You should be getting ready for the feast. It’s almost sun down.”

“I was about to go insane from Sansa’s gossip so I went for a walk and ended up here.”

Her father frowned. “What gossip?”

Surprise flittered across the Stark twins faces. Never before had their father been interested in Sansa’s gossip. “She said that the king wants her to marry Joffery.”

“Is that all Sansa said?”

Torrhen nodded slowly, confused at her father. “Yes, but I’m confused. If Sansa is supposed to marry Joffery, what is going to happen to me? Am I going to marry Theon?”

It was Ned’s turn to be confused, but he was relieved there wasn’t any gossip of Torrhen’s possible betrothal to the Kingslayer. “No, Torrhen, you are not marrying Theon.”

“Then who am I going to marry? I assume I’m getting married as well because Sansa getting married before me would be embarrassing.”

“We shall speak of this tomorrow, go get ready for the feast, I must talk to Robb.”

Torrhen nodded and left the room. Let her father berate Robb on his lordly responsibilities. He was to be Lord of Winterfell one day and he had to act as honorable and responsible as his father. Put on his ‘lord’s face’ as her mother once called. Torrhen would agree, father became a whole different person whenever he was Lord of Winterfell. And Robb had to adopt that face, make it his own. The thought of Robb pulling a ‘lord’s face’ amused Torrhen. He was her twin brother and she had barely ever seen him as a proper lord. They would play around about it, making jokes but that was all.

She passed by a window and realized that it was getting darker quicker than she had expected. Silently cursing herself, Torrhen headed to her room faster. As she pushed open the door to her room, she realized she wouldn’t have enough time to actually do anything with her hair. _Oh well_ , she thought to herself, _I look better with it down, anyway._ Pulling a deep purple gown from where it was hung, she quickly threw off her clothes from that she was wearing and pulled on her dress. Torrhen never liked it when other people helped her dress. Well, Torrhen never liked it when people helped her, period. If she could do it on her own, then she would. The gown was a deep purple with grey under layering. There were little direwolves running around the seams of her cuffs and the bottom of her dress. It was the perfect dress to wear to the king’s welcome feast.

There was a knock at her door. “Come in,” she called.

Torrhen was finishing lacing her dress up when the door opened and her lady mother walked in, ready for the feast. Catelyn looked over her daughter with a nostalgic smile. “You look beautiful, Tori.”

“Thank you, mother.” Torrhen turned and started fussing with her hair, thinking that’s what her mother would want. It was a king’s feast, they had to look the part with fancy hair do’s and pretty dressed.

Catelyn, however, didn’t think so. “Leave your hair out, sweetling, it looks better that way.”

There was surprise on her eldest daughters face as she contemplated her mother’s words. But Catelyn couldn’t help but smile more at her eldest daughter. Ned had told Catelyn of the king’s intention of Torrhen, and that she couldn’t find out until Ned had told her himself. Sansa hadn’t heard anything because she didn’t mention anything, too engrossed in her own potential marriage to Prince Joffery. But no, her eldest daughter was to be married off to Jaime Lannister and become the Lady of Casterly Rock, if she agreed to it. Catelyn knew that her Torrhen would agree to it. The younger of her twins had the north her, and was more wild than her older brother. She had a touch of the wolfs blood as her husband says, but Torrhen still had Tully within her. And they lived to their own words as much as the Stark’s did. Torrhen wouldn’t refuse King Robert’s proposal. Torrhen was wild, but in the end she was a good girl with a good heart. And she prayed to the Gods that Jaime Lannister wouldn’t ruin her.

“Mother are you alright?” Torrhen asked, noticing her mother's solemn expression.

Her mother smiled once again. “Yes, yes. I’m fine. Are you ready?”

Torrhen nodded slowly, wondering why her mother was acting so strange. First telling her that she was allowed to let her hair down and be free. Usually, her mother would prefer for it to be up and out of her face. Nonetheless, her mother was rather happy at the moment and they walked toward the hall where the feast was being held. There she passed her mother to the King who was to escort her inside the hall, and joined arms with her brother. Sansa had made her switch from being led in by Prince Joffery to Robb - who was supposed to lead Princess Myrcella into the hall. Torrhen agreed almost immediately. Last thing she wanted was to lead the repulsive little Prince into the hall.

“Who do you think will ask to marry you tonight?” Robb teased as the Stark twins watched their parents walk into the hall with the King and Queen.

Torrhen turned to glare at her brother. “You’re hilarious, Robb.”

“In that dress, I expect you’ll get a proposal from the King,” Robb continued, ignoring his sisters harsh glare.

She never had the chance to reply, because they had started walking into the hall. Instead, Torrhen was forced to smile while she seethed at Robb’s teasing. Torrhen had many suitors that pretty much lined up wanting to marry the great beauty of the North. Roose Bolton was the most persistent, desperately wanting Ned Stark to give him his daughter. Unfortunately for Roose Bolton, Ned Stark actually loved his daughter and refused all proposals from him.

They walked into the hall behind King Robert who escorted their mother to the high table. The children were designated to below them. The future King of the Seven Kingdoms, and Lord of Winterfell sitting below their parents. Their siblings sitting next to them before they are all shipped off to be married to other people and live elsewhere.

As the Stark twins walked to their table, Torrhen spotted their bastard brother sitting amongst the common people. She was a bit upset that he wasn’t sitting with them on the high table, Torrhen rather enjoyed the company of Jon. Alas, he was a bastard and with her mother organizing this feast she would give every reason she could on why Jon couldn’t sit with his true born siblings. Reason number one being that he was a bastard, as she liked to remind everyone in Winterfell. The great Eddard Stark had forgot his honor for a single night, and now they have a brother to be forever condemned by the lady Catelyn Stark. Still, she gave him a brilliant smile as they walked past, and he smiled back. The boy who was more Stark than any of his trueborn siblings.

Ever the gentlemen, Robb pulled out Torrhen’s chair for her and waited for her to sit down before helping push the chair in. “Thank you, my lord.” Torrhen said in her best lady’s voice she could muster.

“The pleasure is mine, my lady,” Robb bowed low before walking back around the table and sitting across from her.

They laughed together for the rest of the night. Their lord father always allowed them one cup of wine at feasts like these, and Robb usually drank both of theirs. It wasn’t that Torrhen didn’t like wine, it's that her brother would steal her cup when she wasn’t looking and swap it with his empty one. Torrhen would protest and reach across the table to swat her brother for stealing her wine, but she didn’t mind as much. It was only wine after all, not a tremendous loss.

The feast was lively. Many were drinking and laughing and talking. Torrhen had even allowed Theon Greyjoy to sit with them and enjoy his company. Maybe because he wasn’t as annoying this night as he was most of the time. Whatever it was, she was happy. Even Sansa’s incessant gossiping with her friend Jeyne Poole hadn’t bothered her, or the constant glances between herself and Prince Joffery. No, she allowed herself to enjoy this night.

There was many people that filled the hall. The King had abandoned the high table when his wife sat to sit amongst the common people. Lord Stark had taken it upon himself to mingle amongst his people. Torrhen had taken it upon herself not to watch as the King kissed another woman who looked like serving maid. Instead, she scanned the rest of the crowd until she came across a man that was talking to her father and dressed all in black.

“It’s uncle Benjen!” Torrhen exclaimed excitedly, hastily rising from her chair.

“Where?” Robb asked, eyes searching through people.

“Next to father, come on Robb!” Torrhen told him quickly before walking toward her father.

They had their backs faced towards the feast, talking quietly amongst themselves. No doubt they were having a solemn talk, those two Stark brothers were not known to have very entertaining conversations. Not with the pain that filled their past, or their current titles. Benjen was the First Ranger in the Night’s Watch, and her father was the Lord of Winterfell. Both titles came with enormous responsibility that didn't give enough time for irrelevant conversations. Except when it came to Ned’s children, particularly the Stark twins. Both as brave, honorable and courageous as the two brothers.

“Uncle Benjen!” Torrhen exclaimed as she got close.

Both her uncle and her father turned around. Benjen gave his eldest niece a smile. ”Torrhen! Look at you, I swear you are beautiful every time I see you!”

He drew her into a hug. “Thank you, Uncle.”

“And Robb, look at you, you become more of a man every day,” Benjen regarded the eldest Stark.

Neither twin noticed their father wander off and away from them to rejoin his guests. He knew that his twins would keep his brother well entertained enough for him, it was in their nature.

No, Robb and Torrhen joked with their Uncle, and in turn he told them stories from the Nights Watch. Nowhere near as terrifying as Old Nan’s stories, but yet just as entertaining. The twins would bicker, and have their uncle act as some sort of weird in between as he half-heartedly tries to settle them down knowing their fight was all in good heart. The Stark twins who held the same face, but one had more Tully than Stark, and surprisingly it wasn’t the female counterpart.

They fought to their uncle about who was the better swordsman - although admittedly, it was Robb. He was, afterall, bigger and stronger than Torrhen. However, Torrhen was the better archer, and a worthy opponent for duels.

Ned Stark watched his eldest children laugh with their only living Stark uncle. He watched as they laughed and bickered, savoring this moment. With Torrhen's potential marriage, times like these were going to become fewer. He was separating his twin children, and it felt horrible. They both belong in the North, together. They were a strong pair, equal amount of intelligence and battle skills made. Torrhen and Robb were very much the same person split into two.

Golden hair, green eyes and a sharp smile cut Ned Stark out of his thoughts.

"I hear we're to be neighbors soon. I hope it's true,” Jaime Lannister said as he stepped in front of Ned.

The Lord of Winterfell immediately grew cold, as to deter the Kingslayer from talking to him. The last person Ned wanted to talk to right now was the Kingslayer, especially with the prospect of marrying his eldest daughter to the oath breaker. “Yes, the King has honored me with his offer.”

Jaime Lannister was persistent with his conversation. “Really? Has he also told you about how he plans to marry myself and your eldest daughter; Torrhen, I believe?” Ned visibly stiffened, no doubt making the Kingslayer happy, and said nothing. He looked away from the golden man in front of him and looked toward his daughter who was laughing and talking with her brother and uncle. Jaime followed his eye line and smirked. “Don’t worry though, I’ll be gentle, I promise not to hurt her. And who knows? She may even grow to enjoy me.”

It was obvious that the Kingslayer was getting a reaction out of Ned, which is why he was even more determined to keep calm. He wouldn’t give Jaime Lannister the satisfaction of getting a reaction. “A member of the Kingsguard makes a vow for life never to marry or have lands.”

“Another oath I’ll have to break, then,” he said it with such apathy that it sparked more anger in Ned.

Ned looked stared into the Kingslayer’s eyes. “Killing the king you were sworn to protect wasn’t enough for you?”

Anger flashed in the green eyes Ned was staring into, much to his satisfaction. And then he smirked once again. “We’ll have to see, won’t we?”

“Father!” a voice called, snapping both men out of their glaring.

Much to Ned’s dismay, Torrhen had walked toward both men, a wide smile gracing her face. Not that she had wanted to. Uncle Benjen had caught the hard glaring between his brother and the Kingslayer and pushed for Torrhen to break them up before they killed each other at the feast. She protested at first, wondering why she had to be the one to break them up. Jaime Lannister made her uncomfortable, to say the least. Ever since Robb had caught him staring at her when he had first arrived in Winterfell, she wanted to avoid the golden Kingslayer. But she couldn’t avoid his stares since the feast, and she became hyper aware of when he around with no proper reason.

“Torrhen Stark I presume?” Jaime Lannister asked as she approached them, the corners of his lips twitching up into a smile - or a smirk. Mutely, Torrhen nodded her confirmation.  He then grabbed her hand and pressed his lips softly against her knuckled. Torrhen watched him, obviously shocked and trying to ignore the heat creeping into her cheeks. “It is a _pleasure_ to finally meet you. I am Ser Jaime Lannister.”

“I know who you are,” Torrhen told him curtly, withdrawing her hand from his grasp. His fingers brushed over her fingers as he let her take her hand back.

He smirked at her, not even bothering to hide his amusement, much to both Ned and Torrhen’s annoyance. “Good. Remember my name, since we’ll no doubt get to know each other better in the days to come. And I’d hate for you to have to re-learn it.”

Torrhen’s confusion had satisfied the Kingslayer as he realized that the Lord Wolf had yet to tell his daughter of the arrangement. Vaguely Jaime wondered what would happen if he told her about their impending marriage now. Disbelief would be from the young girl, no doubt. And Ned Stark would probably kill him, now that would be a challenge.

“What is it you wanted, Torrhen?” Ned asked, diverting her attention away from the Kingslayer.

“Uncle Benjen wanted to speak to you,” Torrhen lied, wishing to be anywhere but around the Kingslayer.

Her father nodded and turned to walk away from Ser Jaime, and Torrhen followed him. She knew that Ser Jaime was still watching them, she could feel his stare as they walked away. She forced herself not to turn around, and instead focused on enjoying the rest of the night, desperately trying not to think about what Ser Jaime meant by getting to know each other better.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning was a quiet affair. Most of the King’s court were still sleeping from the night before by the time Torrhen made her way down to the Hall to break her fast. It seemed that the servants were the only ones bustling about this morn, everyone else in the castle were intent on being quiet as to not disturb the king.

When she reached the hall, her twin Robb and Theon sat at the table eating. Grey Wind - Robb’s direwolf was lounging at their feet. Once she entered the hall, he perked up sensing her own direwolf, Icus. Torrhen’s black direwolf trotted over to her wolf-brother and joined in with the lounging. Briefly she wondered where the rest of their family was. It was either their younger siblings hadn’t risen yet, or they had already left for their lessons. If that was the case then she was later than she thought. It couldn’t have been that late though, considering the sun wasn’t that high in the sky.

“Ah, there you are!” Robb called out to her as she approached the table. “We’ve been waiting for you to get up all morning!”

“Why?” Torrhen eyed Robb suspiciously.

“Father wants to see you, and mother as well,” her older brother informed.

Even with that information, Torrhen still remained suspicious. Her brother would often tell her that their parents wanted to see her, and only after she went scouting all over the castle looking for them that either of her parents would deny Robb’s claims. Theon as well would confirm whatever Robb said, sometimes being the one to tell her of the false claims. It was fun for them to watch her wander around the entire castle looking for their parents, and laugh when they forced the story of when she finally found the Lord and Lady of Winterfell out of her.

Suspiciously, she asked, “how do I know you’re not lying?”

Both men looked offended at the thought of Torrhen thinking they were lying. “They really want to see you this time! I swear it!” Robb defended. “We’ll feed Icus for you, Tori, don’t worry. But father does want to see you, he said it was important.”

Deciding to believe them, Torrhen turned to leave. “Tell me what he wanted!” Robb shouted after her. “Me as well!” she heard Theon shout as well. Robb would know, Torrhen thought to herself as she made her way to her father's solar where she knew he would be. Robb would always know, they were twins and told each other everything. Then Robb would tell Theon and possibly their bastard brother Jon as well because her twin brother could never keep anything to himself. Which would then lead to the entirety of Winterfell knowing whatever it was in the first place. A perfect example of this would be the first time she bled not long after she had turned 13, and Torrhen stupidly confided in her brother. Before the end of the day, the population of Winterfell had known. Robb went around telling anyone who would listen, and Theon would escort her around the castle, announcing that they must be careful with the Lady Torrhen, stating that ‘she is frail due to the amount of blood she is losing’. It was an embarrassing day for her but she quickly shut them up by taking one of the wooden swords used for practice and hitting both boys on the back of the legs, threatening to do more if they continued their ridiculous actions. They stopped.

Torrhen knocked softly on her father's door. She wasn’t nervous about meeting with her father, she never has been. Ned Stark never brought his daughter grave news, it was usually her that did that to him. Her mother’s voice called for her to come in. Torrhen pushed the door open and stepped in.

“Robb said you wanted to see me?” Torrhen asked first, having a small bit of doubt that Robb was lying.

“Yes we did, sweetling, have a seat,” her lady mother said as she gestured toward the seat.

Ned sat stoic as he watched his eldest daughter. He watched as she followed her mother’s instruction and sat gracefully on the seat with a pleasant smile on her face. As much as Ned would like to believe his daughter was as innocent and naive as Sansa, he knew that wouldn’t be true. She spent too much time with her brothers to be completely innocent, and after what happened in the Wolfs Wood when she was a child, he knew she would never be innocent. And he found himself glad that he had taught her to defend herself, if it ever came down to it. Ned didn’t want his daughter to become the Lady of Casterly Rock, but he knew that she would good at it just as her own mother is at being the Lady of Winterfell.

“What is it?” Torrhen queried, looking between both her parents for answer. Her mother had a warm smile on her face, a smile that Torrhen hoped to adopt should she have children one day. Her father, however, had a face that showed nothing.

“The King has honoured us with a match for you in marriage,” her mother told her softly, reaching over and grasping Torrhen’s hand.

Surprise is what Torrhen felt first. She hadn’t been expecting this conversation, even though she had been expecting it since she had flowered. Marriage is what her lady mother had been preparing her for. Still, the conversation made her nervous. Especially since her father had told her that she would pick her own husband, and now the King had come with an offer from Kingslanding.

“And who has he suggested?” Torrhen asked politely, although her voice was tight.

“It was Jon Arryn’s suggestion,” her father said.

Her mother interrupted him. “And the King feels obliged to honour his last request as Hand of the King.”

There was tense moment as Torrhen looked toward her parents to tell her _who_ Jon Arryn had suggested. It had better be a bloody good reason to have her married off like this. Catelyn glanced at her husband, waiting for him to answer. Ned had told her explicitly that he was going to tell her who Torrhen was to marry, he said that owed his eldest daughter that much for doing this to her.

Ned finally spoke. “You are to marry Jaime Lannister.”

Shock has graced Torrhen this time. _Are you sure?_ Torrhen wanted to ask her father. She was set to marry Jaime Lannister, the _Kingslayer_. It was like her brain had stopped working. She was shocked, and confused. Did her father just say the king and Jon Arryn has suggested that she marry the _Kingslayer_?

“But he’s of the Kingsguard! They take vows to never marry,” Torrhen exclaimed.

“King Robert has agreed to release him from the Kingsguard,” Ned said simply.

“Why?”

It was times like these he realised how smart his daughter was. Sansa was overjoyed with the news but never questioned it. Granted, she was to marry Prince Joffery and not the Kingslayer, but he had a feeling Sansa would never have questioned him anyway. She was too much of a Lady to do that.

“Lord Tywin has agreed to free the Crown from a third of its debt to House Lannister if Ser Jaime gets released from the Kingsguard to become the his heir, and marry to have heirs of his own.”

 _So, I’m just here as a breeding mule to give the Kingslayer sons_ , Torrhen thought darkly to herself. “And why was I suggested?”

“To settle the rift between House Stark and House Lannister.”

 _And as a peace maker_. The cynical thoughts of about a marriage to Jaime Lannister didn’t stop. Torrhen was afraid to open her mouth and say anything in case all those thoughts slipped out. Instead, she sat in front of her parents staring at her hands in her lap. She couldn’t look at them, they might see her thoughts and become disappointed. She didn’t know what to do. Was Torrhen to say yes now? Give them an answer and put it all at rest.

“You don’t have to give an answer now, sweet, you’re allowed time to think it over,” her mother told her, squeezing her hand.

Torrhen could breathe a little better with that news. Not by much, though. “May I be excused?”

The Lord and Lady of Winterfell gave her leave, and she stood and almost ran out the door. She didn’t think to go back to the Hall where Robb and Theon Greyjoy were waiting to see what Lord Stark had wanted. The only thing Torrhen wanted was to get out of the castle, away from wherever the Kingslayer was hiding, or any of the king’s court. Ser Jaime’s weird advances from the feast last night made sense now, but she still didn’t like them. In fact, she hated those words from last night more than ever now that she understood them. Torrhen didn’t want to marry the Kingslayer, she wanted to choose her own husband who was northern born, and marry because she wanted to and because she loved him, _not_ because the king wanted less debt to pay.

Where she had been upset before, she was angry now. What right did Tywin Lannister have to release Ser Jaime from the Kingsguard? They serve for life! What right did Jon Arryn have to marry _her_ to that damn oath breaker? He never knew her! And he wanted to sell her to those bloody lions so the king will have less debt.

The simple stable boy, Hodor, was tending to the horses when Torrhen stormed up. “Ready my horse, Hodor,” she had ordered the large boy.

“Hodor,” he replied happily, oblivious to the rage in her tone. He went about putting a saddle on her horse, leaving Torrhen to wallow in her anger.

“Going out for a ride?” a voice said behind her.

Turning suddenly, Torrhen hoped she that it wasn’t the Kingslayer talking to her now, as she was not ready to face him yet. She might scream if she turned it was him. Fortunately, she faced her bastard brother; Jon Snow. His dark hair and stormy grey eyes similar to her own was a welcome sight. His face was more welcome than even Robb’s right now. Torrhen didn’t think she could face him yet, either. She could only imagine what he would do once he found out. Robb held even less love for the Kingslayer than their father did.

“I am,” she confirmed as Hodor brought out her horse.

“Alone?” he asked again, observing her the same way her father did not long ago.

“Yes, brother. Alone.”

“Your lady mother says you are not to ride alone, father agrees.”

Slightly exasperated now as she mounted her horse, she knew what Jon wanted. “Would you like to accompany me, Jon?”

“If you wish it, my lady,” he said almost mockingly, his cool demeanor gone now. She was talking with her brother now, and not Ned Stark’s bastard.

Rolling her eyes at her bastard brother, she spurred her horse. “If you are coming, you best hurry Jon, I’m not waiting for you.”

Marrah, her horse was called, rode quickly out of Winterfell as if sensing her great need to leave the castle behind. If her bastard brother Jon Snow was riding after her, she ignored his presence all together. She also ignored the people’s stares as she raced out of the gates. She didn’t dare look around them, for her fear of seeing the Kingslayer. He’d know as soon as he saw her why she running. 

Atop her horse, she tried to out-ride her problem, but they plagued her mind. Still, she focused on the wind rushing through her hair and nipping her face. The late summer snow made the Wolfswood look pure, with the forest covered all in white. It seemed like a different forest when rode through a few days ago after that suffocating nightmare. It was a completely different forest than the one she rode through when she was a girl. Though, she never studied the details, and instead just rode through it all. It was freedom she was riding after, in the shape of a black wolf with golden eyes, similar to her own back in Winterfell with Robb. _A wolf_ , she thought suddenly, _is free to do whatever she wants. And I am a wolf_. She was also a fish, like her mother. Father always said that winter was coming, but mother had taught her about family, duty, and honor. _A fish does as she’s told, to make her house proud_. _And I am that as well._

When she stopped, it seemed as if the world did too. The white forest was quiet, as if waiting for her answer as her parents, the king, and Ser Jaime did back in Winterfell. _No doubt the entire realm knows,_ she thought bitterly. _Everyone else knows about my betrothal before I found out, and they all expect an answer_.

“Tori?” Jon stopped beside her. “Are you alright?”

“No,” she whispered. It seemed as if the entire seven kingdoms were on her shoulders with this decision. _What would happen if I refused?_

“What has happened?” he asked, his eyes never leaving her face.

 _He’s worried about me_ , Torrhen realized. She almost smiled at that notion. Her poor bastard brother is forever to be condemned by her mother, but always will love and care for his true born siblings no matter what Lady Catelyn says. He never deserved her mother’s cruelty. It was not his choice to be born a bastard and the rest of them true born. Would her situation be different if Jon was a Stark? _No, you’ll still be forced to marry the Kingslayer, and Jon would belong in Winterfell_.

“King Robert wants me to marry the Kingslayer,” she blurted out.

If Jon was upset by the news, he didn’t show it. Torrhen hoped that her twin brother would act the same way. She wouldn’t be able to face him if he became angry at her. They would argue, as they always did but it wouldn’t be in the same playful nature. They’d yell at each other for the entire castle to hear before they realize their words and apologize. It always happened. Robb and Torrhen loved each other too much to ever be truly angry at each other. Jon and Torrhen, however, never fought. She loved her half-brother as she loved the rest of her family, being a bastard meant little to Torrhen. He was her brother as Bran and Rickon were, though he was much cleverer. He always saw things differently than the rest of them did, and maybe now he could help her now with his different perspective.

A hand on her arm interrupted her thoughts. She met Jon’s eyes, and saw a tenderness that she saw when he looked at Arya. “And will you accept?”

“I don’t know, Jon. I don’t know what to do.”

“You do what you must, Tori.”

 _Do what I must._ They were words she didn’t want to hear, but words she needed to. Jon always told her what she needed to hear, no matter how cruel it was or unhappy it made her. And Robb would wait with open arms to comfort her, and tell her what she wanted to hear before they both helped her do what she must. Only this time she had to do it alone, but she knew her brothers would always be there.

“Shall we go back, brother?” Torrhen questioned her brother.

“Yes. Father and the King will be waiting for your answer,” he reminded her. _No matter, I have all day_. “Have you told Robb?”

A sigh escaped her lips. “No, I haven’t.”

He smiled at her as they started on their way back to Winterfell. “I can’t imagine why.”

Torrhen chuckled. “I wonder what he will do when he finds out?”

“He will argue with Father about it,” Jon suggested.

“And probably threaten to kill the Kingslayer,” Torrhen added.

They laughed at the thought of Robb confronting the Kingslayer. They really shouldn’t be, but she couldn’t imagine her twin brother in a fight with Ser Jaime. Her brother was good with a sword, but Ser Jaime was better. There had to be a reason as to why he was inducted into the Kingsguard in his 15th year if he wasn’t a good swordsman. _And now he is leaving it to-_. She hadn’t dared finished the thought in her head. No, instead she thought about how it was going to be a long day.

Jon led through the Hunters Gate and to the stables with Torrhen following closely behind. Once again, she didn’t acknowledge the whispers of the small folk. Maybe they weren’t talking about her possible betrothal, and instead wondering why she raced out of Winterfell so quickly? The thought gave her little comfort, but it was better than her first notions.

Robb was mounting his own horse with Theon when she rode up. They stopped and looked at her, before dismounting again. “Where were you?” her twin demanded as he led her horse into the stables.

Marrah shifted nervously as her direwolf trotted toward her happily. Quickly, she dismounted off the horse, not wanting to be kicked off instead. “Jon and I went for a ride into the Wolfswood,” she told her anxious twin brother.

“Ser Rodrick said you rode so fast it was if something was chasing you,” Theon informed her.

 _Only my responsibilities_ , she thought cynically. “So you were going to follow me?”

Theon shrugged. “We wanted to know what Lord Stark had said to you to make you leave in such a hurry.” His mouth twisted into a smirk and he nudged Robb with an elbow. “Perhaps she’s to marry and dislikes the husband Lord Stark.”

Torrhen was not smiling. Neither was Jon, or Robb for that matter. “Then Lord Stark had probably suggested you,” Jon bit back.

It annoyed Torrhen when he continued smirking. Her hand itched to slap the stupid smile off his face. “Oh come now Torrhen. I’m not that bad,” he defended himself with a look in his eye that Torrhen wanted to slap off more than his stupid smirk.

Instead, she ignored her father's ward and looked toward her twin. He didn’t seem as amused as he usually did during these banters. Robb’s Tully blue eyes were solely trained on her, watching her intensely. Another sigh escaped her lips as she realized she had to tell him now or else he would nag her all day about it.

“Robb will you accompany me to the Godswood?” she asked him.

The searching look he was giving her didn’t waver as he nodded, and took her arm. “What about me?” Theon asked after them.

“Later,” both twins called out to him as they left.

Silence hung between them as they walked toward the Godswood, with their young direwolves following behind them. Robb knew it was serious if his twin sister wanted to speak alone in the Godswood. There they only spoke the truth, no matter the topic, that is what Father had taught them. There under the eyes of the heart trees of the Old Gods they were free to think and speak. It worried Robb to think that Torrhen was so anxious over whatever father had said to her that it needed to be said in the Godswood.

 _Perhaps it is a marriage?_ Robb thought to himself. Father has found someone suitable for his sister, and her new husband was going to take her away from him to have a family of their own. Theon and he always joked about Torrhen’s future marriage, guessing husbands and purposely matching her with horrid men that they knew she hated just to irk her. All the jokes aside, Robb had always thought that his sister would marry Theon, that she would put aside the whatever dislike she had for him and marry him so that Theon would finally be his brother, and Torrhen would never go far. A life without his twin sister around was a life he did not want.

Once the entered the Godswood, Torrhen went to sit in front of the heart tree on the snow, her direwolf lying next to her resting its face in her lap. The cold never bothered her much, it bothered Robb a lot more but he suffered in silence. _The cold can wait until Torrhen says her peace_. She was silent for a while, staring at her ever-shifting hands. It was a nervous habit of hers, an annoying one too. But he would wait for her to speak. If Robb pushed her to say whatever she intends to, he’ll never get an answer. They would get mad at each other and nothing either of them had wanted to say would be said. No, he had to be patient.

And then it was rewarded. “King Robert has honored Father with a match for me,” Torrhen started, still not meeting Robb’s eyes. She couldn’t look at him, not while saying this. “It was Jon Arryn suggested before he died and King Robert feels he should honor it as his last request. It is also beneficial to the Crown, as it gets rid of a good portion of debt that King Robert is in.”

Robb’s mind whirled as he absently stroked Grey Wind. “And who has he suggested?” he asked slowly, almost afraid of the answer. Who had the power to get rid of some of king’s debt?

Torrhen took a deep breath of the cold, northern air as she finally looked up to meet her brother’s gaze. “Jaime Lannister.”

It was like time had frozen. Robb definitely had. His eyes stayed frozen on her face as he stared, not saying a word. Torrhen wasn’t sure if he was breathing. She started counting the seconds before he said something, wondering what he could be thinking. Then she realized that she should’ve at least given her father an answer before she told Robb. Ever the protective brother, he would try and talk her out of it without realizing that she had been trying _not_ to do that all morning.

“Jaime Lannister,” Robb said quietly, testing his name. “The Kingslayer,” he said a little louder. “The King wants you to marry the King _slayer_?”

“Yes,” she answered quietly, not quite sure if he had wanted an answer.

“Because Jon Arryn wanted it so that there would be less debt.”

Again. she confirmed what her brother had said. Then Robb was quiet again, which made Torrhen more nervous. He had gone blank, his face absolutely void of all emotion but she could tell he was thinking harder than ever, his blue eyes had never been so vivid in that moment. Oh, how she wished he could angry at her, at least then she would know what he’s thinking. This brooding silence was making her both nervous and uncomfortable. Wasn't this the reaction she had wanted? He wasn't openly angry at her, it seemed. He certainly wasn't yelling at her, and yet it was unsettling all the same. If not, more so.

“He’s on the Kingsguard, they aren’t allowed to marry,” Robb finally said, still in a quiet and calm voice that unsettled Torrhen.

“King Robert is releasing him for a third of the Crown’s debt,” Torrhen answered slowly.

“You’re going to refuse, right?”

An involuntary sigh escaped her. Torrhen was afraid of this happening, almost as much as Robb being angry at her. She’d rather he just last out at her and have it over with. “Robb -” she started.

“You have to! You can’t marry the _Kingslayer_!” Robb started to protest.

“I have no choice, Robb!”

“Yes, you do-”

“No, I don’t! If I refuse, Tywin Lannister would take it as a slight against him, like he did to King Aerys! And we can’t afford to have the Lannister’s as an enemy!” She exclaimed exasperated. She hoped Robb would see things her way, she wanted him to understand.

“She’s right, Robb,” the grave voice of their father said. Both twins turned to look at their father who approached them. He sat in front of his children, facing the heart tree of his Gods. “It is important for the Starks and Lannisters to get along, and Torrhen shall secure peace between us with her marriage to Jaime Lannister.”

“I have my own responsibilities as you have yours, brother,” Torrhen told him quietly, linking her arm in his in what she hoped would be a comforting gesture.

“So you’re going through with it?” Robb asked, in a defeated tone that made Torrhen inwardly cringe. Her lord father looked at her expectantly as well.

Inwardly sighing, she clutched at her brothers arm a little tighter. “Yes, I have to. I will marry Jaime Lannister.”


	4. Chapter 4

Being betrothed should feel different in Torrhen’s mind. Although, she didn’t know what to expect when she _did_ become betrothed, it sure wasn’t this. In all her life, she had never felt more _alone_ now than she did when her marriage was announced to the people of Winterfell. Never before had her brothers prevented her from sparring with them, not since they were children. Instead, she was forced to attend with her sisters and Princess Myrcella with their Septa. It seemed like everyone was treating her differently now, they were treating her like a proper _lady_. Even Theon Greyjoy had seemed more reserved now that she was set to marry Ser Jaime. Silently, she cursed everyone that had forced her into this damned arrangement, including herself for agreeing to it.

The only things she was allowed to do anymore was go out riding. Hodor was nice enough company at least, but he didn’t have particularly invigorating conversation considering he could only say his own name. It had been entirely two days since the announcement and Torrhen already missed her brothers, and she still saw them at meal times and infrequently during the day. How was she supposed to go to Kingslanding, and then move on to Casterly Rock if she can’t be without their constant company for more than two day? She hoped that they would come to the capital for her wedding at least.

Torrhen was standing, brushing down her horse Marrah after another ride. She’d left the Septa’s lessons early despite Arya begging her to stay. Torrhen couldn’t sit there stitching stupid patterns after the Septa made that comment of giving it as a gift to her betrothed and Sansa babbling about their marriages. The Septa let her go after she told her that she wasn’t feeling well, which was partly true. She wasn’t feeling well, she was feeling like she was going to stab someone in the eye with the needle in her hand.

“Planning to run away, are you?” an arrogant voice that Torrhen was all too familiar with called out to her.

Paying him no mind, Torrhen continued methodically brushing the horse. “No,” she answered curtly. “Aren’t you supposed to be swatting at royal princelings?”

The gate opened behind her, and Torrhen assumed that her father's ward had stepped inside the stable with her. “No. Only Stark’s get that honour. I’d love a shot at that little prick, though.”

She scoffed at Theon, after deciding that Marrah was properly brushed. “The Hound will beat you for Prince Joffrey, he doesn’t care enough about you to do it himself.”

That may have been a little harsh to say but Torrhen was in no mood to deal with Greyjoy, now or ever. He didn’t miss a beat. “What about your lord husband, then? Would he care enough to duel with me?”

“He isn’t my lord husband.” _Not yet._ “And no, he wouldn’t. He doesn’t care about anything.”

Planning to walk away from Theon and his wretched words, Torrhen tried to get past him to get out of the stall. Theon had other ideas, however. He grabbed her arm, and tightened his grip almost painfully. Immediately, Torrhen began to try and pull her arm out of his iron grip. It wasn’t working, Theon was too strong for her.

“Then why did you decide to marry him? Because he’s handsome?” he began to question in low, threatening tones.

“What- No!” she protested, desperately trying to pull her arm back.

The iron-born boy was relentless. “Because he’s wealthy, then? Or because you think he’s _good_?”

“Good at _what_? Theon let me go!”

“Good at bedding girls,” Theon said mockingly, as the grip his hand had got tighter and began to hurt Torrhen. “I’ve heard the Kingslayer is just as good with his sword in bed than he is in the yard.”

“You think-- ?! No! I don’t care about that, _let me go!_ ” Pulling at her arm wasn’t enough. If Theon refused to let her go soon, she would be forced to hurt him.

His voice became low and menacing now, dropping down to a tone that she’s never heard from him. Theon stepped closer to her now, and Torrhen stepped back. She didn’t want to be in this situation, not again. Not with someone she knew. Her protests became feeble as she tried to repress the memories.

“But I’m better,”  he hissed. “I’ll make it so whenever the Kingslayer touches you, all you’ll think of is me. I’ll do things to you-”

“If I were you,” an apathetic voice called out. “I’d let the lady go.”

Theon twisted around to see the golden Kingslayer standing at the gate of the stall. He was in his Kingsguard armor, with his hand perched casually on his sword and the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. Although he made it seem like his hand just happened to rest nonchalantly on his hilt of his sword, Torrhen knew that it was the vaguest hint of a threat. She had never been more grateful to see Ser Jaime than she was in that moment, something that she didn't ever think she'd feel. Theon, however, refused to back down to the likes of the Kingslayer.

“This doesn’t concern you, Kingslayer,” the kraken spat the last work, tightening his grip on Torrhen.

Whatever amusement Ser Jaime held vanished. Torrhen expected him to glare heatedly at Theon for his choice of words, but as she had just met the golden lion, her expectations were wrong. Instead, his smirk widened into a malicious smile that held a promise of blood; Theon’s blood. He took a step forward into the stall, and tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.

“On the contrary, Greyjoy. Lady Torrhen is now my betrothed, everything she does concerns me. And I do believe that my bride-to-be does not wish to speak to you anymore. So let her go.”

The last words said by Ser Jaime had more of an edge to them than anything she’d heard him say thus far. Even Theon was stunned into silence. There was a tense moment of silence between the three of them. Theon didn’t budge with his tight grip of her arm, Ser Jaime stood casually gripping at the hilt of his sword, and Torrhen watched, wishing she could be anywhere else than standing in the stall with them.

Finally, Greyjoy released her arm and Torrhen almost cried out in relief as she cradled her throbbing arm against her. He didn’t even look at her as he stormed out of the stables, brushing past Hodor who was standing at the door to the stables, patiently waiting outside. Ser Jaime stared at Greyjoy until he was out of his sight before he turned to Torrhen to see her staring after Theon as well.

Ser Jaime noticed how cold her grey eyes were as she stared after Greyjoy. He actually noticed more than the colour of eyes this time. Since he had arrived at Winterfell with the king’s court, Jaime had only dared to watch her from afar. At first he felt ashamed for watching her like he did, he felt like he was betraying Cersei. But he reminded himself that he was supposed to marry this girl and they’d do more than just staring at each other, so looking wasn’t as bad as it felt. From afar, he only saw the colour of her eyes, the curls of her hair and the curve of her smile. Standing this close to her, he could see so much more. That her eyes weren’t the same as her father’s. A stormy grey filled with amusement replaced the stony seriousness of Ned Stark. Of course, that’s not what he saw now. It was a cold grey, filled with hurt and hatred for the iron boy that had just left their presence.

“Are you alright, my lady?” he asked, more out of politeness than anything else. It was true, she was his bride-to-be which is the only reason he intervened. He never cared about what anyone thought of him, but his father would have his head if he heard that Jaime was letting some kraken abuse his betrothed. And no doubt Cersei would have a field day, listing reasons why he would make an incompetent husband like Robert. His twin was upset with him for his forced marriage, and had become both irresistible and exasperating as of late.

Torrhen’s eyes flicked to him and where he expected disgust from an honorable Stark, he saw relief and shame. “I’m fine, thank you for making him let go, my lord.”

He eyed for a moment, wanting to find a fault in her words, but she seemed genuine. The only thing she was lying about was being fine. Torrhen still cradled her arm close to her and Jaime could tell by the awkwardness in the action that it pained her more than she was letting on.

“You should probably see your Maester about your arm, it may be sore for a few days.”

She looked surprised and glanced down at her arm, rubbing it lightly. “You’re right, I shall go now.”

With a nod, he stepped out of the way and let her bustle past. She seemed like she couldn’t get out of the stable fast enough, and it amused Jaime greatly. He was going to have fun pushing her past her comfort limits.

Before she could fully escape, though, Jaime spoke up again. "You know, it was rather strange that he attack you in the middle of the day."

Torrhen paused in her footsteps, wondering where he was going with this. "Perhaps he was drunk," she suggested quietly. _Or desperate._

"He didn't stink of wine," Jaime observed as he turned to her. He noticed that she had her back towards him, facing toward the simple stable boy who guarded the stable doors. "No, he seemed desperate. Almost like... a rejected lover."

A smirk crossed Jaime's face as the Stark girl whipped around and stared at him in horror. The golden knight knew that that wasn't true, he had overheard most of their conversation and knew the girl was a maiden. The Stark's were too honorable to be otherwise, and this girl was more Stark than her brother was. Still, it amused him to see his betrothed so horrified at his suggestion.

"What? No! I would never -!" she sputtered, and Jaime watched as her face heated in shame.

He chuckled at her shame and embarrassment. "I know, my lady. I was jesting."

Her horrified expression faded. Now, she just seemed embarrassed. "Oh," Torrhen said simply, not knowing what to say next. "I have- I have to go see the Maester."

With that, Torrhen turned and walked toward the castle, Jaime staring after her with a smirk on his face. _Maybe this marriage won't be bad after all_ , Jaime thought to himself. Indeed, he was going to have fun corrupting Ned Stark's innocent daughter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is kinda short. sorry.

Maester Luwin was unhappy to see her come to him with an injury after her mother had explicitly told her not to anything worth getting an injury. He had asked how she had sprained her wrist like she did as it was already swollen when she had arrived. Torrhen lied and said she had fallen off her horse. She had stumbled through her lie which made the old maester suspicious, and he also couldn’t ignore the obvious finger marks left on her skin but decided against saying anything. If the young girl had anything to say, she would have said it. He had helped her lady mother birth her into the world and watched as she grew, the old maester knew that Torrhen wouldn’t lie blatantly to him without a reason. Maester Luwin decided not to mention the bruises to the Lady Stark, but he may hint that something may be troubling the eldest Stark daughter.

Instead, he dutifully wrapped the young girl’s arm and told her to be more careful, and to stay off her horse for as long as possible. Torrhen nodded and quietly thanked the maester before scurrying off to her room. She knew that he was going to tell her mother and that her mother was going to come looking for her and ask questions. Dealing with that right now was not something Torrhen wanted to do. She just wanted to lie down on her bed and try not to think about what had occurred in the stables.

Unfortunately for her, the Gods seemed to have a different idea as on the way to her room she saw her twin brother in some sort of daze as he wandered toward the direction she was set in. Torrhen craved Robb’s company since he had started avoiding her when she had accepted the marriage alliance between herself and Ser Jaime. He had ditched her and stuck close to that damned Greyjoy. The same one who had abused her in the stables. Although Torrhen wanted to see her brother, she was mad that he had avoided her like he did. And after the incident in the stables, she didn’t want to see him.

Robb, however, had a different idea. “Tori!” he called as she kept her fast pace toward her room. “Tori! Wait!”

“What do you want, Robb?” Torrhen snapped.

“Can’t I speak with my sister?” Robb asked hotly.

“No. I’m betrothed to the Kingslayer.”

There was a pause as Torrhen assumed Robb was shocked. “But you’re still my sister,” he said once he recovered.

“Oh, am I? I hadn’t noticed, with you refusing to do so much as talk to me.”

Robb put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her to a stop. “What do you think I’m trying to do now?”

“Prevent me from eating.”

“Torrhen,” Robb groaned. “Stop. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have ignored you like. I was just- just trying to wrap my head around you getting married. I know we joked about it all the time but now it's actually happened. And to Jaime Lannister - which I still don’t approve of.

“And you think I do?!” Torrhen exploded. “I didn’t have much of a choice! Nor as much time to adjust to it but you don’t see me ignoring you.”

“I’m sorry-”

“I needed you, Robb, and you chose Theon,” she spat his name in disgust.

Without waiting for a reply, she turned around and continued to storm in the direction of her bedroom. Torrhen’s eyes began to sting with the warning of tears. Gods, it seemed like everything was frustrating. All she had wanted was Robb’s company and when he finally offered it, she had pushed him away. She didn’t know the exact reason for it, but she knew that Theon Greyjoy was a large part of it. He was her brothers closest friend, and he had deliberately hurt her. Torrhen realised she should’ve told Robb, but with her travelling to Kingslanding in a few days with her father and the king’s court, her brother could use the companionship.

Flinging the door to her room open, she collapsed on her bed, and burrowed her face in the furs that covered her bed. Damn the King, and Jon Arryn, and Tywin Lannister, and Jaime Lannister too for this stupid engagement she was stuck in.

“Torrhen?” her mother’s voice called out softly.

Torrhen resisted the urge to groan at the intrusion. All she wanted was to be left alone in her own misery. She wanted to lie in bed and forget that Theon was considering raping her, which led to the Kingslayer having to save her, and Robb’s apology that Torrhen was slowly accepting despite her anger. She also wanted to forget how weak she was during her confrontation with that stupid kraken boy. How powerless she was in that situation. At any other time, she could easily have thrown them on their back, even without a weapon. But at the time, she was frozen with fear. Fear that she could have easily overcome. It shamed her.

“Sweetling, are you okay?” her mother asked. Torrhen felt the bed dip and assumed that her mother had taken a seat.

Sighing quietly, Torrhen sat up in her bed. “I’m fine, mother.”

It was the most obvious lie Torrhen had ever told. And her lady mother knew it. “What’s the matter?”

“I just- is it supposed to be like this? Being betrothed?”

Her mother gave a small laugh. “Like what?”

“So lonely. Robb never wants to spar with me anymore, or go horse riding, or even talk. I hate it, mother.” Torrhen lay her head in her mother’s lap for comfort.

Catelyn began to lightly stroke her daughters hair, as she did when Torrhen was a child. Torrhen was a woman now, and she shouldn’t be acting this way but she needed to comfort. After being seemingly lonely for these few days, it was a welcome change.

“What about your sisters? You’ve been spending more time with them, and Sansa is betrothed as well, why didn’t you talk to her about it.”

“Sansa gets a prince, a foul little prince, but still a prince. And she has a child’s view, thinking every knight and prince and king is like how they are described in the songs and the stories Old Nan tells. I have to marry an oathbreaker, a man that half the Seven Kingdoms hates.”

Torrhen felt her mother flinch. If anyone were to hate the man she was supposed to marry it would be her mother, just as honourable as her lord father. Maybe it came with being a Stark, honour and righteousness. Fighting the good fight. Doing things the right way. Doing what is expected of you. Where did that get Torrhen? Betrothed to the most infamous oathbreaker in the entire Seven Kingdoms.

“You were raised differently than Sansa,” Catelyn said gravely.

Lucky me, Torrhen thought cynically as she sat up. “What if I don’t like the south?”

She knew how childish she sounded but Torrhen couldn’t help but ask. She actually liked the cold weather of the north. It never bothered her as much as it did her siblings, in the north she felt like she belonged. Everything was natural, and beautiful. There were seldom moments when she looked around and didn’t feel at home. Those moments however, she was previously occupied trying to save her own life.

Her mother smiled softly. “I didn’t know if I would like the north, and now it is home to me as Riverrun once was. You’re strong, Torrhen, you will be fine.”

Another sigh escaped Torrhen. “If you say so, mother.”


	6. Chapter 6

Winterfell had plunged into a deep sadness. The people mourned for their little lord who had fallen from the tower. The king and his court were due to leave the day after the hunt that he went on the day young Bran fell from the tower. Now, they had to wait another five days before they could depart from the frozen landscape because their king wanted to stay for his dear friend whose son fell from the tower. The Stark’s themselves seldom talked to anyone but themselves and worried over the fate of Bran. The lady Stark wouldn’t leave her son’s side for anything. The lord Stark tried to manage his time between his kingdom, his guests, and his injured son. And all the Stark siblings - save for Rickon who was too young to understand - prayed constantly for Bran. Even the constant bickering between Sansa and Arya had simmered drastically as they tried to comprehend the fate of their brother.

It had happened so quickly it took a while for Torrhen to comprehend what happened. She’d been stubbornly hidden away in her room because her mother had forbidden from going on the hunt with the king and her father. Then there were shouts from outside and curiosity got the better of her as she went outside to investigate.

Nothing could have prepared Torrhen to see her little brother lying unconscious on the ground, looking half dead. His unnamed direwolf howled beside Bran’s body, and her own wolf sniffed around Bran before joining in with the howling. She didn’t even realise she was crying until Torrhen knelt on the ground by her little brother and watched as her tears fall on his face, screaming for help, afraid to touch Bran in fear of worsening his injuries.

Everything after that was almost a blur. Someone was taking Bran away to take him to the maester. Torrhen screamed in protest. Catelyn and Maester Luwin came out to see what was happening. Catelyn screamed as well. They took Bran away, Torrhen tried to follow but was told to wait outside. That’s where the rest of her family found her. Sitting quietly outside Bran’s room where Maester Luwin and Lady Catelyn were working to save Bran. Her father went inside, and the rest of the Stark children just stood outside and looked at the door, each of them looking wearing similar looks of worry and fear. The direwolves were outside the castle, howling the grief that all the Stark children felt. Bran's wolf howled the loudest out of the litter.

“What happened, Tori?” Robb asked, sitting down next to her.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Torrhen's throat closed up, sobs spilling out in place of words. She couldn't have told him even if she knew, unable to get the image of her baby brother lying lifeless on the ground, bent at an angle she knew he shouldn't be. Robb put his arm comfortingly around the shoulder of his twin, feeling her grief as his own.

“I was in my room. I should’ve been outside with him, maybe I could have caught him. Robb, I should have been there.”

“You can’t be everywhere at once, Tori.”

Robb was met with silence from his twin sister who just stared at her hands. He sighed inwardly at her behaviour. Her guilt was tangible enough for him to feel, but Robb needed her to gather herself. Didn’t she see that their other siblings needed her to be strong for them? Acting the way she did was going to upset them, and the last thing Robb wanted to deal with was distraught siblings. Robb needed her help with them, knowing that he couldn't handle the three younger Stark's by himself.

Just as Robb was about to suggest that they move away from the room and go somewhere else, their father stepped out of the room once more. Torrhen shot up straight away and the rest of the Stark children crowded their father.

“Is Bran okay?” “Is he going to live?” “What did Maester Luwin say?”

The Lord of Winterfell was bombarded with questions from his children about their brother who lay unconscious on the bed in the next room. Ned sighed as he faced his children. “Maester Luwin is doing all he can for Bran. All we can do is pray to the gods for his recovery.”

“Was it true? Did Bran fall from the Broken Tower?” Torrhen asked quietly.

“Yes, he was climbing and slipped on a loose stone.”

“But Bran never falls! He knows better than that!” Robb protested.

"I used to climb those walls too, there was no way Bran could've slipped, there weren't any loose stones!" Torrhen shared her disbelief.

“He did fall, we must accept that fact. Don’t forget, we still have royal visitors to attend to,” and with that Ned departed from his children.

The Stark children were left staring after their father, flabbergasted at the prospect of having to further entertain the King and his court as though their brother might not die that day. They all stood, struggling to comprehend how they were supposed to do their duty as the hosting family when all they could think about was whether Bran would survive.

Torrhen hesitated a moment before running after Ned. “Father! Father!”

Ned slowed to a stop as he turned around to face his eldest daughter. “Yes, Torrhen?”

“What’s going to happen now?”

Confused, Ned asked; “What do you mean?”

“Are you going to stay in Winterfell with Bran?”

“No, Torrhen. We are still going.”

This shocked Torrhen. She had thought that with Bran balancing between life and death Ned would reconsider travelling to Kingslanding to become Hand of the King. Torrhen had never liked that her father’s supposed ‘friend’ would ask something like that of him in the first place after winning a war and losing half his family in the process. As far as she could see, King Robert was an incompetent king and relied on other people to rule for him. Torrhen didn’t want her father to be one of the those people.

“But what about Bran?”

“He is my son, but there is nothing I can do for him.”

Torrhen had never seen her father look so sad. She had just realised the gravity of the situation for her father as well. He was about to lose a son, and instead of sitting by his side like mother had opted for, he was continuing on in doing his duties for the realm. Surprise registered in Torrhen as she momentarily forgot that he was a father and a husband before he was Lord of Winterfell.

Swallowing her shame, Torrhen decided to return to the dutiful daughter. “When do we leave?”

“If I can get his Grace to agree, five days from now. Is that enough time for you to say your farewells to your brothers?”

“Yes father,” Torrhen nodded.

A moment passed between them before Ned pulled his daughter in his arms. The comfort was much needed on both sides. For Torrhen, her entire life was going to change, and for Ned, he was moving to the one place he never wanted to go since the end of Robert’s Rebellion for a friend he wasn’t sure fully appreciated him anymore. They were both hurting over Bran and unsure over going to Kingslanding. However, they both had duties to attend to and sacrifices would have to be made.

After several moments, Torrhen released her father. “Thank you, father.”

“Go to your brothers and sisters.”

Taking a breath, Torrhen nodded and turned toward her siblings. They were all staring at the door with unshed tears shining in their eyes. She smiled at them. Even though they fight all the time, the Stark children love each other. Torrhen only hoped that Bran would wake up to realise that. She decided to distract them by taking them all to pray for Bran's survival.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at university so updates may come slower now. Sorry.

Robb greeted Torrhen that morning without his usual bright smile. “Today’s the day,” he said sadly.

Sighing quietly, Torrhen picked at the food in front of her, not entirely ready to leave the only home she had ever know. “I don’t want to go,” she whispered.

The king had agreed to the extra five days in Winterfell to mourn for Bran’s horrible injury. In that time, Maester Luwin had managed to stabilize Bran’s condition and informed the people of Winterfell that the worst was over. Even though this was a relief to hear for Torrhen and the rest of her siblings, their mother had refused to leave Bran’s side. Torrhen could barely comprehend what her mother was going through, but Bran was not in danger of dying anymore so Torrhen couldn’t understand why she hadn’t come out to attend to her other children. This forced Torrhen and Robb to step up attend to her lady mother’s responsibilities. Not even Maester Luwin was around to help out since he was busy with keeping Bran alive.

During this time, Torrhen hadn’t interacted with Ser Jaime since the incident with Greyjoy in the stables, which she was thankful for. She had seen glimpses of him in the yard sometimes where he sparred with other men. Despite her dislike for the golden Lannister, Torrhen couldn’t deny how handsome and capable knight he was, even if he was a dishonorable one. However, Torrhen could only manage glances since every time he was in the yard as she passed by, Robb was with her and she could feel the glare he was giving. With as many problems as they had, Torrhen didn’t want to risk upsetting Robb anymore than he was, and she was far too busy to worry about the likes of Jaime Lannister, betrothed or not.

Instead of worrying about her future husband and his family who seemed uncomfortable more now than they were when they arrived and had stuck to themselves through the entire affair, Torrhen focussed on spending whatever time she had left with her brothers. It wasn’t that difficult considering Rickon never left her side and Robb was determined to be as close to his twin as possible.

It was not enough time in Torrhen’s mind as the day they were set to leave for Kingslanding had finally arrived. Torrhen was afraid to say the least. She was moving to a new city, surrounded by people she didn’t know and probably won’t like just to married off to the most infamous oathbreaker in the entire Seven Kingdoms. It seemed absolutely terrifying. And most of all, she’d have to do it without Robb.

That was the hardest part; leaving her twin brother. They had spent their entire lives by each other’s sides, how was she suppose to get through the biggest change in her life without him? They had never been apart for extended lengths of time. The past few days they had spent at each other’s side. Robb had ditched the company of Greyjoy in favour of Torrhen, and Greyjoy had avoided her altogether, thankfully. Leaving was going to be difficult. But Torrhen understood that it was time to become her own person and leave Robb behind, even if she didn’t enjoy it. She would miss him, though.

“You’ll get used to Kingslanding, Tori, maybe you’ll love it as much as Sansa does,” Robb replied quietly.

“I doubt I’ll be there long enough to get used to it,” Torrhen muttered sadly.

Resisting the urge to cringe, Robb gave a quiet sigh. How had he forgotten that his twin sister was getting married and moving to Casterly Rock. He wouldn’t even be at the wedding either.

“You slept in late, everyone is already outside saddling the horses and getting ready to leave.”

He stood and offered his hand to Torrhen who looked pained at the thought of leaving so soon. Robb felt the same kind of pain but had it hidden behind his ‘lords face’. It is better to hide his pain and be strong for Torrhen whose life is changing drastically. Torrhen took his hand and together they walked out into the yard arm in arm.

Once outside the doors, they were met with bustling servants and people tying luggage to carts and horses. Leaving Winterfell became painfully real to Torrhen as she realised that her trunk full of her own things were probably packed and put one of these carts. She forced herself to blink away the tears that were forming in her eyes. They were really leaving to Kingslanding.

Torrhen had gone her whole left thinking she wouldn’t leave the north, which now that she thought more about it, was a preposterous notion. She was a lady, and often most ladies had to leave their own homes and move elsewhere. Torrhen was a lady of one of the most noble houses in the Seven Kingdoms, which meant that even if the king hadn’t come to ask her father to be Hand of the King, she would’ve had to go south to court. Torrhen was a Lady of the North, and this was her duty no matter how much she disliked it. The Tully words rang in her head as she crossed the yard. _Family. Duty. Honor._

Across the yard, their bastard brother was saddling his horse. Confused, Torrhen turned to her twin. “Is Jon coming?”

Robb looked almost sad. “Just to the King’s Road, then he’s following Uncle Benjen and joining the Night’s Watch.”

“The Night’s Watch?!”

Robb let out a small sigh as they approached the stables. “He doesn’t belong here, Tori, not around mother. The Night’s Watch is the only place for a bastard.”

“No, it’s the only place for Jon.”

Her family was breaking up. Jon was going to the Wall. Herself, father, and her two sisters were going south to Kingslanding. Whereas mother, and her brothers were staying here in Winterfell. She was afraid for Jon going to Wall, something her father told her made Torrhen nervous over Jon travelling to the Wall alone. _When the snow falls and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives_. No doubt he’ll have the other men in the Night’s Watch but he shouldn’t be alone.

Although Torrhen thought it was better than travelling south. Nothing good ever came from Stark’s going south to the capitol. They always ended up dead, with the exception of her lord father. All he lost was his entire family with the exception of Benjen Stark who resided at the Wall. _Well, maybe Jon won’t be as alone as I thought_.

“Why don’t you go and say goodbye to mother and Bran while I saddle your horse,” Robb suggested, growing tired of the depressing talk of the future of their bastard brother.

Mutely, Torrhen agreed and walked back toward the castle. Saying goodbye to Bran and mother was going to be just as painful as watching the Lady of Winterfell waste away next to her unconscious son. Another reason in the list of reasons why they shouldn’t leave Winterfell. Another factor in Torrhen’s life that she couldn’t control or change, and was running away from. The Stark words rang in her head. They were going south but she had this cold feeling in her stomach that winter was rapidly approaching.

The grey direwolf pup trotted along beside Torrhen. If there was anything Torrhen was glad for, it was her direwolf was travelling south with them. Probably not the wisest decision for a bride-to-be who is relocating her entire life south to take an infamous animal known for being dangerous and vicious. But Icus was apart of Torrhen, more than a common pet to its owner. It’s as if Icus was Torrhen in wolf form. Her wolf was closer to her than even Robb was.

She knocked on the door lightly before pushing it open. Her mother sat on the chair next to the bed staring at her son. Catelyn was quiet, and unnervingly still as she stared at her son. Torrhen studied her for a moment, wondering when was the last she ate, or blinked. It was her mother, but it was like looking at a different person inhabiting her mother’s body. Torrhen always thought of her mother as a strong woman, but seeing her now made her doubt that. Although, her apparent weakness wasn’t without cause.

Sighing, she walked over to her little brother’s bedside. The words were caught in her throat as she stared at her unconscious brother. He looked so peaceful, almost as if he were asleep. She ran a hand through his auburn hair that was a shade lighter than hers.

“We’re leaving for Kingslanding soon,” Torrhen started. “If you were awake, we’d take you with us and we could explore the castle together, or go riding in the Kingswood with our direwolves. I promise I’ll write to you, and when you wake up you can write to me and tell me what you’ve decided to name your direwolf.” Torrhen paused to wipe the tears that threatened to fall. “I’ll miss you Bran. Wake up soon.”

Pressing a kiss to Bran’s forehead, Torrhen stood up and walked around the other side of his bed where her mother sat. Following Torrhen’s lead, Icus leapt up onto the bed and licked at Bran’s cheek as if she too was saying goodbye, before jumping down again. She pressed another kiss to her lady mother’s head.

“Goodbye mother, remember to take care of yourself.”

Torrhen walked out the door, desperately trying not to look back. Her mother didn’t say anything to her when she said goodbye. She didn’t even look in Torrhen’s direction, just stared at Bran. It upset Torrhen a little. She was going south to be married off and probably won’t see her mother for a long time, and Catelyn didn’t even _look_ at her. There wasn’t a glance, or a smile, or any words of wisdom and encouragement that Torrhen desperately needed. Some kind of reassurance from her mother about getting married. Instead, she got nothing.

It wasn’t until she bumped into someone that she realized she was staring at the floor since she walked out of Bran’s room. Immediately, she began apologising to the person she bumped into, until she look up and saw the golden knight she was set to marry and the apology died on her lips. He was dressed in his kingsguard armour, wearing the white cloak he metaphorically stained with the Mad King’s blood. Ser Jaime smirked down at her and he held her arms to keep her steady. It was difficult to tell which was shinier, his hair or his armour.

“You should be more careful with where you are walking, my lady. You don’t know who you could bump into.” Ser Jaime sounded amused, as he always did whenever he talked to her.

“I’m sorry, Ser, I’ll watch where I’m going from now on,” she said quietly, moving to step around him. Icus, who had been sniffing at his feet, growled suddenly. Both peered down at the grey direwolf curiously.

“Is something the matter with it?” Jaime asked.

“I don’t think so.”

Torrhen stared down at her wolf, confused as to why Icus would growl like that. She had never made that sound before, it was strange behaviour for her, or not considering Icus was in fact a direwolf. Jaime vaguely wondered why the animal would growl like that, but decided to forget it and instead focussed on the lady standing in front of him. “Are you excited to go to Kingslanding?”

She avoided look at him, he was intimidatingly attractive and it made Torrhen nervous. “Oh yes, I’ve always wanted to see the capitol.”

It seemed like Torrhen didn’t even attempt to sound genuine. She couldn’t find the energy to stand here and converse with the Kingslayer, let alone attempt to lie to him. Ser Jaime seemed to be studying her. His bright green eyes staring into hers, searching for something. That stupid smirk still on his face.

“How about you and I make a deal? Since we’re to be married,” to her credit, Torrhen didn’t cringe at the word, “it would be much easier if we promise not to lie to each other. Trust is key to any marriage.”

For an unexplainable reason, Torrhen became annoyed with the Kingslayer. “My little brother fell from a tower five days ago and still hasn’t woken up and will live as a cripple for the rest of his life, forgive me for not being excited about leaving him.”

A tense moment passed between them as Jaime felt the guilt of pushing that poor boy out the window rush through them, and Torrhen silently and unnoticably seethed at him for being quite annoying when all she wanted to do was go back outside to Robb. Torrhen wondered why he wouldn’t leave her alone before remembering that they were supposed to get married.

Jaime’s tense expression cracked as he started smirking again. “See? Doesn’t the truth feel so much better?”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Torrhen stepped out of his grasp. “I’d better go saddle my horse.”

Without waiting for any kind of response, she stepped around him and continued walking out to the yard, desperately hoping that he wouldn’t follow her and continue the conversation. Icus let out a low growl once more before following behind. Luckily for her Jaime saw that the conversation was heading no where and simply went over to his own horse.

Robb was waiting next to her horse that he had already saddled. Everyone who was leaving with them were already on their horses, waiting for the king’s word to leave. Torrhen approached her twin brother, blinking back tears that threatened to fall. Their brother, Jon, sat atop his own horse waiting as well.

“How did it go?” Robb asked as she approached.

“As well as could be, I supposed,” Torrhen replied.

As soon as she got close, Robb pulled her into his arms, clutching his twin sister tightly. They said nothing, just hugging because they knew it would be a while before they saw each other again. Next time they’ll see each other, Torrhen would be the Lady of Casterly Rock, and Robb would be acting Lord of Winterfell, and maybe married as well. They’d be older, more responsible with the adventures of their childhood far behind them. The almost identical Stark twins would be two different people. Seperate.

“Don’t forget to write, Tori,” Robb started loosening his grip on his sister so they could face each other. “And don’t hold back on the details, I want to know everything.”

“I promise, Robb. Take care of mother, and Rickon, and Bran.”

“You as well, make sure Arya doesn’t kill Sansa and make sure father gets enough sleep.”

Once again, Robb pulled Torrhen against him before letting go completely and keeping her horse still as she climbed on. She settled on the saddle before looking down at her brother. To their credit, neither of them let them cried. Although Torrhen was dangerously close from doing so, and was blinking often so her tears wouldn’t fall. Icus keened and jumped up on Robb, pawing at his stomach. Robb chuckled and bent down so that Torrhen’s wolf could lick his face. Even Icus didn’t want to leave.

“Maybe I should leave Icus here with you and Grey Wind,” Torrhen half-heartedly joked.

“Then who else will keep you safe in Kingslanding without me there?” Robb replied with a grin, standing up to get away from the direwolves affection.

“I can take care of myself, Robb.”

“I know, I’ll just feel better knowing you’ll have Icus with you.”

Torrhen agreed silently, knowing she felt better with Icus around too. The direwolf was only a pup, but it was far more dangerous than any dog. Although, Icus and the other direwolf pups were far too cute to be considered dangerous.

“Robb,” Theon said as he appeared next to Robb, startling both Stark’s.

Immediately, Torrhen tensed at Greyjoy’s appearance. She had hoped to avoid seeing him before she left. One thing she liked about going south was being away from Theon Greyjoy. Being away from his constant flirting would be refreshing, if it wasn’t being swapped for the company of Jaime Lannister.

“You forgot this,” Greyjoy told Robb, holding up something covered in cloth.

“Right, thank you for reminding me,” Robb said, taking the object out of Theon’s hands.

Greyjoy nodded, muttered some form of a farewell to Torrhen before walking away. It seemed that he was as eager to get away from her than she was of him. Robb gave a confused glance at Greyjoy’s retreating figure before ignoring it and casting his attention on the cloth covered object in his hand.

“For you,” he said, removing the cloth and handing it to her.

It was a quiver. A dark leather quiver with small light grey intricate patterns around the top and bottom. There was also the direwolf sigil the same colour as the patterns stamped proudly across the centre. The quiver was filled with at least a dozen arrows and a bow to match. It was beautiful, and much more appropriate for Torrhen than a sword would be.

“Do you like it?” Robb asked, obviously excited. “I had it made after you told me about your betrothal.”

“Why?” was all Torrhen could manage while studying her gift.

“So you’re able to protect yourself from the Kingslayer,” that made Torrhen grin, “and to remind you that no matter who you marry, you will always be a Stark of Winterfell.”

“Thank you, Robb.”

He nodded and grinned up at her. The same boyish grin that she had been looking at her entire life. A smile she was going to miss.

There was a shout from the gate and people started shuffling out of the yard. Torrhen looked around her as people started moving. She was actually leaving Winterfell, the only home she had ever known. Her eyes started to burn with fresh tears, but Torrhen blinked them back. She looked down at Robb, who somehow still held a smile even if it lost most of its happiness.

“Goodbye, sister,” Robb said, his voice heavy with sadness.

“Goodbye, brother,” Torrhen managed to choke out.

Another moment passed before Torrhen spurred her horse forward. They stared, Tully blue and Stark grey eyes searching each other. The inseparable Stark twins actually being separated. This was a sad day for the Winterfell.


	8. Chapter 8

Passing through the Neck had been the most uncomfortable experience Torrhen had ever endured. It was hot and the air seemed damp so Torrhen constantly felt sticky and sweaty, which made the passing much more uncomfortable. Their slow pace didn’t help as the queen demanded they slow down whenever they gained the slightest bit of speed. Going as slow as they did hardly qualified as _riding_ , Torrhen could walk faster than the speed they were travelling.

Often times when they stopped to camp for the night, Torrhen would take off riding when their tent was set up. Although she would never be gone for long or ride her horse too hard, it was a nice change of speed than the crawling pace that the queen had set. Also, her direwolf Icus appreciated the exercise at being able to run around without worrying about scaring the southerners they were travelling with. It was one of the few things that made Torrhen happy, seeing the little grey beast sprinting happily in the free space. It was almost exhausting how slow they were going. And since they weren’t travelling at any regular speed, it was easier for bandits and thieves to spy on them for an attack.

Except any bandit from the Seven Kingdoms would know never to attack the king’s court with as many guards as they did. And any woman would know not to stray from said guards that protect them and keep them safe as is their job description. Any woman except Torrhen, who was getting more reckless with straying from the court after they had made camp for the night. Sometimes she would let her horse rest and take a walk around their encampment instead.

Walking around with an armed escort had never been something had to deal with in the North, since naturally she had always had someone by her side. Even now since the discovery of the direwolf pups, Icus was always tailing her master. Torrhen felt safe with her little grey pup beside her.

Today, however, was different. Jory Cassel had offered to feed all the direwolf pups and let the Stark girls do as they wish without having to worry about the young beasts. As soon as they were released from caring for their wolves - which was honestly second nature to the Starks, and felt a bit strange not doing - Torrhen's younger sisters raced off. Sansa had gone to try and join the Queen and all her company for tea, commenting snobbishly on how both Arya and Torrhen should do that same. Arya shouted her reply before saying she was going to play with her friend that she'd made. Which left Torrhen alone. She refused to accompany Sansa in having tea with the queen. She was to marry her Grace's twin brother, and Torrhen was almost sure that Queen Cersei despised her.  And Arya didn't need or want the company of her older sister.

Torrhen did the only thing she could think of; go for a walk.

It was rather relaxing to go for a walk by herself without ever having to worry about anything. While they are riding with the King's party, Torrhen always worries about her sisters, and her father, and the direwolves to see if they are scaring the Southerners. And she worries about her betrothal to Jaime Lannister. Although since leaving Winterfell she had had no more interactions with him since he was busy defending the king, Torrhen's stomach still churned whenever he looked her way. She didn't know how she was going to marry him and spend the rest of her natural life with him.

Walking away from camp was like walking away from all her worries, even if it was for an hour at most. The noise of the large King's Court faded as she wandered away. Instead, she filled her senses with the southern part of Westeros. Only ever having lived in the North, exclusively in Winterfell, being somewhere new was exciting for Torrhen. Going for walks or rides were often a way of exploring the country. She expected that she wouldn't get to do this again, not after she moves to Casterly Rock.

Torrhen didn't realize how far she had walked, almost out of sight of the encampment because she was too far into her thoughts. Not until she looked up and only spotted the banners and sigils of the king and smoke coming from fires. Deciding that she had walked for long enough, she turned and headed back to camp, hoping to eat something and then go to bed.

She hadn't walked five steps before she heard someone fast approaching. Alarmed, Torrhen whipped around to see who was approaching just in time to see a small group of men approach her with their small knives and daggers raised. By their ragged and dirty clothing Torrhen guessed that they were only smallfolk.

Her heart began to pound in her chest as she realized that she was alone and weaponless. Both her direwolf and the bow Robb had given her were back at camp. The men slowed down and began to creep toward her with twisted smiles on their faces. Fear began to rise in her throat, effectively making Torrhen unable to scream for help. It was as if she was stuck in the spot she stood, with no idea what to do. She couldn't run away from them, there was no way Torrhen could outrun three men in the thick northern dress she was wearing, the skirts were too heavy. The only sounds coming from Torrhen were short gasps of breath.

"You know liddol ladies like you shouldn't be out her alone," the one in the middle leered at her.

Disgust filled Torrhen as they all laughed at some inside jest that they all understood. Torrhen didn't want to understand whatever sick things were going through their minds, but she knew that it was at the expense of her and that their taunting wasn't going to last long. Soon, they'd start attacking.

"Maybe we should help her," another said, giving an open mouthed smile  showing off dirty, and missing teeth.

The next few moments were a blur to Torrhen.

The men ran at Torrhen with their knives raised, and malicious smiles on their faces. Everything after that seemed to blur together, and some parts were missing all together. Dark, thick shapes ran toward and Torrhen reacted. She moved quickly, dodging someone, hitting another, taking a knife, then there was a blur of red, an eruption of pain in her side, and even more red. It was almost a cycle. Dodge, hit, slash, pain, dodge, hit, slash, pain… At one point Torrhen was on the ground as someone kicked at her, but she managed to get ahold of his foot and stab the knife through it, distracting whoever it was with pain before slitting his throat when he doubled over to scream at his wounded foot.

She didn't comprehend what had happened until she was standing upright with a bloodied knife in one hand, and four bodies of dead men lying on the ground. Each was bleeding from the fatal wounds that Torrhen had inflicted on these men. The same blood covered her as well as she looked down at her dress to see some of it stained red. Her breath came out in ragged gasps as her heart continued to pound in her chest and the energy that fear had ignited in her faded.

"Gods," Torrhen whispered to herself as she realized that she had done this.

There were four men lying dead around her, and it was all because of Torrhen. She had taken the lives of these poor, malicious smallfolk into her own hands and ended them. She'd been forced to kill in self-defense because once again, Torrhen was stupid enough to walk around by herself without a guard. None of this wouldn't have happened if she had stayed close to the encampment, or at least taken one of her father's guards along with her as an escort. Torrhen wondered why she couldn't ever be as simple as Sansa and do as she is told. Studying the pale faces of the men around her, Torrhen couldn't help but think of the reasons why these men had decided to attack her in the first place.

"My lady?"

Torrhen looked away from the bodies, and up to who the voice belonged to. In front of her, was the golden lion himself, approaching her slowly with his sword drawn. His Kingsguard armour shined in the twilight as the last of the setting sun reflected off his white breast plate. He seemed slightly out of breath, and his forehead shined with sweat. Ser Jaime must've seen the small fight and had ran out to rescue her, Torrhen thought vaguely.

He continued to approach, stepping carelessly over the dead bodies of the men that had tried to hurt her. "Are you alright, my lady?" Ser Jaime asked again.

To Jaime, Torrhen seemed absent in herself. Or in shock at what she had just done. He'd had plenty of experience with young maidens who were unable of defending themselves, and even assisted in rescuing to poor ladies that had been subjected to it, but the Lady Torrhen was almost uncomfortably different.

Jaime had watched as the young she-wolf had wondered away from the encampment by herself. Not even her direwolf tailed her as it usually did. Although he would never admit it, Jaime was quite fascinated by the Stark's eldest daughter. With the northern dog absent, he took this as the perfect opportunity to talk to her again, as if was often seldom that was left completely alone. . Every time he had seen her, she'd been with a member of her house, or her sisters, or with her direwolf. Jaime wouldn't dare approach her with that northern beast around as if growled viciously whenever he tried to get close. He didn't even pretend to understand why the wretched creature hated him so much, and instead chose to steer clear of it.

So, he found it odd that the young Lady Stark was without her beloved pet and decided to follow her and provoke another reaction out of her. It was thoroughly satisfying to him to watch the eldest daughter - his _betrothed_ \- of the Noble Eddard Stark become flustered and almost unable to talk because of him. He'd seen the bandits approach before she did, and hesitated in going to attempt to rescue her.

If Jaime had turned around and walked back to camp, deciding not to see anything and hoping that those men would rape and kill her, then he'd be released from the marriage Baratheon and his Father had begrudgingly trapped him into, and he'd be free to stay as a member of a Kingsguard and be with Cersei. And Lord Stark would mourn the loss of his daughter and if the Gods were good, return to the grey wasteland he governs with the bones of his daughter and forget all about being Hand of the King. It was perfectly convenient, but as he watched the scene unfold before, Jaime Lannister was surprised at what he saw.

Even from the distance he was standing at, he could tell that the Stark girl was afraid. It was hard not the tell in her tense posture, but the second the bandits went running for her, it was as if she became another person. Jaime watched almost in awe as this small girl skillfully killed the four men who were intent on harming her. He watched as she dodged their blows gracefully, and kicked them down, and stole of their knives to cut them down with. The young Stark had already killed one of them before another had managed to hit her, and even then it didn't have nearly as much strength as he would've thought as she recovered quite quickly and plunged the knife into the eye of the man that had struck her.

His feet moved on their own accord as he started running toward her. Jaime didn't know why, it was quite clear that she had perfect control of the situation and could take care of herself. Something he made a mental note of. But he ran toward her anyway, and by the time he had arrived, the man who had tried to attack her was dead. And Torrhen was in some sort of absent state.

He put his sword away as he neared her. She stared at him, somehow seeing right through him, and feeling like she was reading his thoughts. Unwillingly, an image of the young Stark boy he had pushed from the tower flooded his mind. Stupidly worried that she would be able to see the thought, he trained his eyes on her, looking for any sign of injury. He studied her face, which had blood smeared on it, and the beginning of a bruise appearing on her cheek.

"Lady Torrhen?" Ser Jaime asked again, gently easing the knife out of her hand. "Are you hurt?"

"I didn't- I didn't mean to," she whispered, her grey eyes darting to the dead bodies.

"If you didn't, they would have done much worse to you," he said quietly, afraid of startling her and making her much more upset. Jaime wouldn't think he would be able to handle a hysterical girl, much preferring that she stayed this stoic until he returned her to her father.

"They just… attacked. I didn't know- I wasn't supposed to- I don't-."

The knife slipped out of her fingers, and Jaime carelessly tossed away. "It's alright now, you're safe. Let's get you back to camp."

With a hand on her back, Jaime gently nudged her in the direction of the encampment, and they slowly made their way back.

* * *

Jaime led her through the maze of tents, ordering the nearest soldier to find Lord Stark and tell him his daughter has been attacked. He kept on eye of her as they walked, looking for any sign that she'd been injured. So far, she walked normally, if not incredibly slow, but no sign of internal injury. Jaime suspected that she would just be bruised from whatever hits those men could land. All the people they came across stared in shock at Torrhen, who was covered in blood and was mutely escorted by Ser Jaime, himself through Stark's camp. Jaime could only imagine their shock as they walked together, refusing to acknowledge the whispers of rumors that would no doubt begin about this scene.

A panicked Septa rushed up to Torrhen and fussed over the Stark girl. She tugged at her clothes, and examined her face, and poked at the Stark girl enough to annoy Jaime who told her to be useful and run her a bath, and prepare fresh clothes. The Septa gave him a look of annoyance, and gave Torrhen a worried one before rushing off and shouting at maids. Still, his betrothed remained unnervingly silent, which sparked Jaime's curiosity knowing that most girls in her situation would be annoyingly hysterical.

There was a sound of a flurry of movement before the Lord Stark himself, as well as half a dozen of his soldiers appeared. As soon as the Lord Wolf spotted his daughter, he gave no sign of hesitation before rushing over toward her. Surprisingly to Jaime, he didn't even bother with a hateful glance in Jaime's direction.

"Torrhen!"  Stark exclaimed, worry evident in his voice.

"Father," Stark's daughter said, the first coherent word she had said since Jaime found her.

The sight of her father must've broken Torrhen out of whatever trance she'd been in as she launched herself into her father's arms. Jaime watched for a moment as they embraced each other, noting how his bride-to-be relaxed in her father's arms. Before he could think about anything else, Jaime turned away and began to walk back to the king's side of the encampment, not looking forward to whatever berating he would receive for leaving the camp. He'd suspect his twin sister would be much less welcoming once he'd have to explain that he had to save his betrothed.

"Lannister," the cold voice of Ned Stark called, making Jaime stop and sigh in annoyance.

"Stark," Jaime replied in his usual bored tone.

"What happened? Why is my daughter covered in blood?" Stark demanded, his cold grey eyes silently judging Jaime as if it was his fault.

Refusing to acknowledge the fact that Jaime was starting to get annoyed at Stark's almost accusation, he decided not to give any straight answers, knowing it would annoy Lord Wolf the most.

"Why don't you ask her?" Jaime gestured to his intended with a hint of a smirk.

"I've no times for your games, Ser, just tell me what happened to Torrhen."

"What does it look like? Your daughter was attacked, what else is there to say?"

Jaime made the mistake of glancing at the young girl. Torrhen stood slightly behind her father, as if Lord Wolf was shielding his daughter from Jaime. But standing behind her father, Torrhen looked small, vulnerable, and slightly pathetic huddled under a large cloak that was draped over her shoulders. She looked more pathetic now than she had when she was in her trauma induced trance, and almost a completely different person than who he had watched kill four men at once. Still, her liquid grey eyes looked so sad and pitiful that Jaime almost felt sorry for the girl, if he cared enough

"Tell me what happened, Lannister," Stark asked with more force, his grey eyes lighting up with anger. Jaime couldn't help the smirk that twitched on his face.

Before Jaime could reply, the Stark girl cut in. "I went for a walk by myself, but I wondered too far away from camp. A few bandits ambushed me, and Ser Jaime saved me.

Hiding his surprise at the lie his wife-to-be had just told, Jaime gave the Warden of the North the most smuggest smirk he could muster. He was satisfied by the cold calculating look Ned Stark gave him. Jaime didn't even pretend to know why the she-wolf had lied for him, but he was certainly going to enjoy whatever reaction it managed to get out of her father.

It was painfully obvious that Jaime wasn't going to get a thank-you from the Northerners. "I'd love to stay and be praised for saving your daughter, but I have duties to attend to.

With that, he turned and walked away, with a satisfied smirk on his face.

Torrhen stared after him, wondering why Ser Jaime had stood by and watched her fight four men, completely unarmed, and why he had only chosen to show himself when she had already killed them all.


	9. Chapter 9

A little more than a week had passed since Torrhen was attacked by bandits. To everyone's surprise, Torrhen had recovered from the attack quite quickly. Well, to the Southerner's surprise, Torrhen had recovered quickly, as far as Sansa had told her anyway. Sansa had also spoken of how the southern ladies fawned over Ser Jaime for being so brave and being a true knight for rescuing Torrhen. She mentioned how the ladies were jealous of Torrhen's betrothal to him, and wished that he would rescue them. Torrhen bitterly thought that they can have the Kingslayer for all she cared, he'd barely done anything so far to warrant her trust, respect, or admiration. Arya told Sansa that those southern ladies are stupid, and that they shouldn't rely on men - let alone the Kingslayer - to save them. Torrhen smiled her youngest sister, and the wilderness she possessed.

Since the attack, Torrhen often wondered about the Kingslayer. The golden knight plagued her thoughts, no matter how hard she tried to force them out of her mind. Yet, when Torrhen could catch a moment of peace, Jaime Lannister clouded her mind. His behaviour made her uneasy, as did the behaviour of her direwolf Icus whenever the young beast was around the Kingslayer. Figuring out the puzzle that was Jaime Lannister left her mind in pieces. Why had he defended her against Greyjoy in Winterfell yet stood by and watched as four bandits attacked Torrhen? - who had no weapons on her, and no means of defending herself. Why had her direwolf Icus growled so fiercely toward him that he avoided Torrhen when she was with her animal companion?

Many questions surrounded Ser Jaime of House Lannister, and he offered no answers. It seemed like the entire realm tried to guess as to who Ser Jaime actually was but settled on 'the Kingslayer' after so long. However, unlike the realm, Torrhen would be forced to spend more time with the Kingslayer considering she would have to marry him soon enough, their betrothal alone would have to force them to spend time together to 'get to know one another'. Although with his Kingsguard duties, Ser Jaime is thankfully otherwise preoccupied. Torrhen is positively sure that that will change once he released.

The attack has made Lord Stark more protective of his daughters, as Torrhen is never without a guard, or her direwolf. Icus hasn't left Torrhen's side since she returned to the encampment covered in blood, and snarled at anyone that tried to approach her that was unfamiliar. It seemed that the only people who were could approach Torrhen without a dangerous growl from Icus was the Northmen. Torrhen didn't trust anyone from the South, and neither did Icus, apparently.

As for her sisters, Sansa had been spending more time with the wretched little Prince Joffery. It was painful to watch them together, and Torrhen couldn't help but cringe at the two of them converse. And Arya spent her days running around the encampment, getting as dirty as she possibly could. Torrhen thought she did that purposefully to annoy the Septa and the maids that were charged with taking care of the Stark girls. Torrhen had been sending letters to Robb at every opportunity, and her latest consisted of the attack on her, as well as her suspicions on the Kingslayer. Robb would write letters back, but there were fewer than Torrhen sent, and usually they were double the length. Torrhen would wait happily for his responses, but after her last letter, she almost didn't want to write a response. She'd only told him what happened out of obligation because she knew he'd find out eventually, and she'll be getting an angry letter from him. No doubt, she'll get an angry letter anyway, but at least it wouldn't be for being a bad sister.

Torrhen was very alone in the South. The kings court had taken residence in the Darry. Lord Stark was away and dealing with what seemed to be very important things, or at least Torrhen hoped it was since it took almost all his time. Without the company of her brothers, Torrhen's life had become very dull of late. The courtyard that Torrhen was currently wandered through made her miss Winterfell where she knew most of the people who lingered. The people here were strangers, who offered no warm smile as Torrhen passed.

"Tori! Tori! Help!" Arya came sprinting toward Torrhen, with Nymeria close behind. Torrhen watch concerned as her younger sister came running at her with a terrified expression on her face.

"What is it?" Torrhen asked with the same level of desperation that Arya's tone held.

Arya stood in front of Torrhen with messy hair and her gown smudged with dirt, tugging on Torrhen's dress. "It was an accident! I swear! Nymeria never meant to hurt him! They'll kill her, Tori! They'll kill her, you have to help me."

"Arya! What are you talking about?!" Torrhen demanded, getting more agitated as Arya constantly watched around her, her eyes bouncing between people. Torrhen looked down at Nymeria to see that she had a bit of blood stained around her mouth.

Something must have spooked Arya, because she took off running again. Torrhen scanned the area looking for whatever Arya was looking at before she ran away. The only thing she saw was the Lannister guards that had accompanied the royal court. Sighing, Torrhen lifted her skirts so that her feet could have room to move and proceeded to run after Arya. She followed her little sister as she kept running toward the forest, all the while calling after her and telling her to slow down. Torrhen's dress restricted her from catching up to Arya as she lagged behind and Arya never slowed down.

They had run deep into the forest that was near the castle of Darry until Arya had finally decided to slow down. She still continued to wander through the forest, tripping over roots of trees and pushing hanging branches and leaves out of her way as she walked. Torrhen was finally able to catch up to her younger sister. She grabbed Arya by the shoulders and spun her around so that she could look at the terrified expression of Arya's face.

"What is the matter with you? What is going on?" Torrhen demanded, in the same voice her mother used when scolding Torrhen and her siblings.

"They're going to kill Nymeria, Tori! We have to hide her, make her go away so they can't get her!" Arya repeated.

"What are you talking about? Arya, tell me what happened," Torrhen pleaded with her sister, becoming more concerned by the minute. 

"I was practicing sword fighting with Mycah, the butchers boy. We were playing with sticks, I wanted to learn how to fight with a sword like you, and Robb, and Jon. But then Sansa and that stupid Joffery came along and ruined it. Joffery was being mean to Mycah, and then he was being mean to me. He was going to kill me! But Nymeria bit his arm, the one that was holding his sword. He's going to kill Nymeria, I know he will. You have to help me, Tori, please. They can't kill Nymeria." Arya was sobbing by the end of her tale.

Torrhen stared at her younger sister, both stunned at what her sister and her direwolf had done, and amazed at her intelligence to know that Joffery would want Nymeria punished for what happened to him. Very quickly, Torrhen glanced around her to make sure no one was around, because no doubt they'll be looking for Arya and Nymeria. She grabbed her younger sister by the arm and pulled her deeper into the forest, both their loyal direwolves following along keeping an eye out as well for anyone approaching.

"Why were you practicing sword fighting, Arya?" Torrhen questioned as she pulled her along in the forest.

"I want to be a knight! I want to fight!" Arya exclaimed as they walked, having calmed down slightly.

"Why would Nymeria attack Joffery? Why would you let Nymeria attack Joffery! You know the Southerners don't like our direwolves!"

Arya wretched her arm out of Torrhen's grip and glared defiantly up at her older sister. "It was Joffery fault! He hurt Mycah! He was going to hurt me too if Nymeria hadn't done anything!"

Giving an irritable sigh, Torrhen grabbed her sister's arm again and walked more until they reached a small river. "They can go through the river, the hunting dogs won't be able to track them."

"Nymeria will tear those dumb dogs apart if they tried! And anyone who would try to hurt her!" Arya shouted angrily.

"No, Arya," Torrhen said firmly, getting on her knees to look her sister directly in the eye. "Nymeria isn't safe here, you said it yourself that they'll have Nymeria killed for what she did to the prince. We have to let her go, she can't stay here."

Tears started to gather in Arya's eyes again, the stone grey colour of her eyes softening with tears. "I don't want Nymeria to go, she's my best friend."

Sighing again, Torrhen pulled her little sister into her arms, enveloping Arya into a hug in an attempt to comfort her. "I know, Arya. I know. But we have to." She let go of Arya, and wiped her tears with the sleeve of her dress. "Tell Nymeria to leave."

Arya turned to her direwolf, still sniffling. "Go Nymeria, you have to leave."

The young wolf titled her head to the side, almost as if Nymeria was confused at Arya's command. Torrhen watched with a pained expression knowing that this was going to be difficult. Tears already began to fall from Arya's eyes as she was forced to chase away her direwolf companion.

"Leave!" Arya yelled, trying a more aggressive approach. "Go away! I don't want you anymore!"

Torrhen joined in this time, pushing at the direwolf, nudging at the small beast to leave. Both Stark sisters attempted to persuade the young direwolf to leave, and resorted to throwing rocks at the poor beast to get it to leave. Eventually, Nymeria turned away to leave, slowly trotting away and looking back at Arya every few steps to see if she had changed her mind. But Arya just watched Nymeria leave, still yelling at her to leave, her voice thick as she cried. Torrhen looked at her own direwolf companion, who whined as her sister-wolf trotted away. Torrhen wrapped her arms around her direwolf for a moment, and gave a sad smile when she felt Icus' rough tongue lick her cheek. Torrhen let go and stared at her own direwolf. Icus' golden eyes stared back, and they looked so _human_ that it should've scared Torrhen. But it didn't, Torrhen would never be scared of her own direwolf.

"You have to go too, Icus," Torrhen said quietly, running her fingers through Icus' soft coat of fur. "You have to protect Nymeria."

"What are you doing?" Arya asked between sobs.

"I don't want to risk them hurting Icus either, and this way Nymeria won't be alone," Torrhen explained gently. She turned back to Icus. "Go on, Icus. Go to your sister."

Icus sat there and stared at Torrhen for a moment. For that moment, Torrhen was afraid that she would have to resort to throwing rocks as well. She didn't know if she could do it to Icus, throw rocks and resort to saying mean things to get her direwolf to leave. It hurt enough watching Arya do it to Nymeria, living through it twice was unnecessary pain to add. Fortunately for Torrhen, Icus understood what was being asked as the clever beast stood and ran off to join her sister-wolf. Icus stopped, took one last look at Torrhen and Arya before turning and running through the river to catch up to Nymeria.

Arya's quiet sobs had turned into full blown crying now. Torrhen went over and pulled her little sister into her arms, quietly rocking her and trying to comfort her as well as trying to not to cry at the loss of their direwolves.

 _I'll come back for you, Icus_ , Torrhen thought to herself and she attempted to quiet Arya's sobs.

* * *

Torrhen didn't know how long they stayed there, holding each other tightly. All she knew is that it was dark and cold before anyone found them. Neither Torrhen nor Arya wanted to move after their direwolves left, instead opted for sitting in the forest with Arya wrapped in Torrhen's arms and mourned the loss of their beloved companions. For a while, Torrhen was thinking about how she was going to tell this to Robb. No doubt it would upset him as it has upset her.

The sky through the trees above them changed from light blue, to dusk orange, to the black sky littered with stars of night. Torrhen watched the sky change, numb to everything surrounding them, everything except her younger sister who sat shivering in Torrhen's arms. Torrhen hugged her younger sister closer to her body in an attempt to keep her warm, all the while oblivious to the chill in the air.

Torrhen sat, watching the sky change, but not through her own eyes. She was almost sure she was dreaming by what she was seeing. The world moved so fast around, the trees blurred as Torrhen sped by, even though she wasn't moving at all. The sky continued to change colour just as Torrhen saw with her own eyes, but in her mind's eye, everything around her was moving so quickly. Torrhen couldn't understand it.

The bushes rustled around them, and both Stark girls tensed. They stared in the direction of the noise, hoping that it wasn't anything important. That perhaps it was a wild animal native to the forest that was scuttling around in the bush. Neither wanted to move, neither felt ready to go back to the encampment and face whatever was waiting for them. Arya in particular didn't want to face her punishment for attacking the prince, and Torrhen didn't want to face the reality of continuing to Kingslanding without her direwolf as company. Unfortunately, the gods weren't in favour of them today, and a figure in Lannister guard armour stepped through the bushes, the light from the fire of his torch both startling and hurting Torrhen's eyes as she shied away from the light. The Lannister guard looked at Torrhen and Arya wrapped in each other for a moment before moving toward them. Both girls instinctively shuffled away from the man with the torch.

"I've found them! They're over here!" The Lannister guard yelled to what Torrhen thought was probably the other guards looking for them. He turned to the Stark girls who still sat on the ground, squinting up at him as their eyes adjusted to the light. "Lady Torrhen, Lady Arya, the King and Queen request your presence," the guard told them in the most monotone voice Torrhen had ever heard.

"Where is our father?" Torrhen asked, pulling her younger sister's body tighter against her as Arya hid her face from the Lannister guard. "I want to see my father."

"You'll see your father after you see the King and Queen." The Lannister Guard gripped Torrhen's arm and yanked her to her feet. Arya stumbled out of Torrhen's lap and Torrhen reached out for her sister to steady her. "Move, now," the guard ordered, pulling Torrhen in the direction of the encampment.

Arya clutched to Torrhen's skirts, wrapping her arms around Torrhen's waist. Torrhen gripped the dress of her younger sister just as tightly, and held her against her body as they stumbled together back to camp with the guard that found them pushing them along, nudging Torrhen in the right direction. As they walked, more Lannister guards joined up with them. No one said anything to the Stark girls, and they didn't say anything to the Lannister guards that escorted them. They all walked in silence through the forest, the fire from the torches the guards were carrying giving them enough light so Torrhen and Arya wouldn't trip over tree roots or stumble into bushes.

"You've found them, well done…" the arrogant voice of Ser Jaime Lannister broke their tense silence.

"Arton Tellar, ser," the Lannister guard that found them said.

"Right. Tellar. I will make sure you are rewarded for finding my betrothed, and her younger sister," Ser Jaime announced to the guard.

"Thank you, ser."

Ser Jaime then turned his green, flashing eyes toward Torrhen who stared back defiantly. He gave an amused smile at Torrhen's defiant attitude toward him. He'd heard what the nasty little she-wolf had done to Joffery through Cersei, and what his twin sister wanted to be done about it. Unfortunately for Cersei, but fortunately for the youngest Stark girl, someone else had found her first, and Torrhen - his dearly betrothed - had been with her. Jaime wouldn't have tried anything with Torrhen around since he knew that she could put up a decent fight.

"The King and Queen wish to see you," Jaime told both Stark girls.

"Where is my father?" Torrhen demanded, her arms wrapped protectively around the youngest Stark girl.

"Out looking for you, I assume," was the Kingslayers' smart reply. His arrogance was really starting to annoy Torrhen more than usual.

"I want to talk to my father."

Ser Jaime gave Torrhen the most condescending look he could muster, because he could see how tired Torrhen was, and how much he was starting to annoy her. "I'm afraid that has to wait. The king is an impatient man, and you've kept him awake by hiding in the forest for hours. He isn't the happiest of people right now, so if I were you, I wouldn't anger him any further."

He watches as Torrhen's face changed from determination to submission. She backed down quite easily, and Jaime couldn't keep the thought out of his head that Cersei would still put up a fight. His twin sister couldn't hold a sword or shoot a bow, but she had a tongue like fire and was always ready to defend herself. She'd never have backed down so easily at something so simple. Then again, Torrhen didn't have Tywin Lannister as her father who would've stared down any king and made them obey him.

"Let's not keep the King waiting any longer then," Jaime said when it was clear Torrhen wasn't going to resist anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

King Robert was the only one sitting in the room. The hall of castle Darry had been cleared out specifically for King Robert to deal with this incident. Half of his court had woken up to see what had why both the Northern and Lannister soldiers had gone out searching the woods. News had spread quickly about the youngest of the Stark girls' pet direwolf mauling Prince Joffery, and running off with the eldest Stark girl into the woods. Stories were over exaggerated, especially by the prince himself, so King Robert waited for the Stark girls to return before he made any decisions. Still, the constant nagging by Cersei about this situation was already enough to make King Robert to have half a decision.

When Torrhen and Arya entered the tent, with Jaime Lannister and half the Lannister guard escorting them, King Robert felt nothing but relief. He couldn't wait to get this over and done with. This wouldn't even be considered a problem if Cersei hadn't been nagging at him to do something about the 'mauling' of his son. Robert thought that Joffery should be proud, if what he says is true. He survived an attack from a direwolf, there aren't many men who can say that, not even before the reign of those silver haired bastards from House Targaryen.

The younger one of the Stark girls looked afraid and deeply upset. Her eyes were puffy and red rimmed as if she had been cry. The older Stark girl's face was passive. She was smart to let nothing away. The younger looked almost guilty with her childish fear, but the older, the one Robert married off to the Kingslayer looked almost defiant in the way she stared at everyone in the room. She never dared look down or hide her face, she met eyes with almost everyone in the room. When steely grey eyes met his, he was reminded of his beloved Lyanna, who had the same steely grey eyes. In that moment, he could see the eyes his beloved Lyanna as clear as day in the face of his best friend's daughter.

It was almost unnerving the way she reminded Robert so much of Lyanna, and how he was almost willing to do anything she wanted to keep her around. If it wasn't for her auburn hair, Robert could've sworn she would be Lyanna reincarnated. He briefly wondered how Ned did it, staring in the face of his eldest daughter and not be reminded of the pain that Lyanna had caused with her death.

"You found them, brother," the soft voice of Cersei Lannister broke in, pulling him out of his thoughts of the woman he was still very in love with. "Where did you find them?"

"I didn’t find them, I just escorted them but they were out in the woods as far as I'm aware," the Kingslayer replied, his voice annoyingly light and relaxed.

"Why were out in the woods? Were you hiding from my guards? Afraid to face punishment for what you did to Prince Joffery?" Cersei demanded from the Stark girls. Her emerald eyes flicked between the two Stark girls as they stood silently, watching Cersei as she was watching them.

Torrhen refused to say anything. She knew explaining herself to Queen Cersei would be useless as she could see in her eyes that her mind was already made up. No matter how well Torrhen would be able to explain the actions of herself and Arya, the queen would demand punishment for what Nymeria had done to Prince Joffery. And King Robert looked as if his mind was elsewhere. Torrhen though that King Robert couldn't care less about this situation, and was only here because his title demanded it.

Cersei's eye's flashed with anger at Torrhen's silence. "When I speak to you, you must answer, and you must answer honestly," the queen reprimanded, her voice dangerous.

Fear pitted itself low in Torrhen's stomach at Queen Cersei's tone. Words failed her as Torrhen struggled to come up with the suitable thing to say to somehow please the queen and not have her little sister punished. Torrhen kept up what hoped to be a blank face. She didn't want the queen to know her fear, or her indecisiveness about what to say. To make matters worse, she could see the Kingslayer watching with an amused grin from his place near King Robert.

"Arya! Torrhen!" The voice of their father rang out in the hall.

Relief washed through Torrhen like a bucket of warm water over her head. Arya wiggled out of Torrhen's tight grasp and dodged behind her to run to their father. Arya began to cry again, and Torrhen wondered how she could have any tears left. Torrhen didn't dare move as Queen Cersei's gaze pinned her to her place. Behind her, she could hear Arya's sobs and apologies, and desperately wanted to turn around to see her father's reassuring figure. However, she didn't need to as Lord Stark stepped up beside his daughter, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, which forced the Queen to look away as she shifted her glare to Lord Stark. Torrhen was immensely grateful that the Queen's penetrating glare wasn't directed at her anymore.

"Are you alright?" Ned asked Torrhen, seemingly ignoring the dark looks Queen Cersei was giving him. His eldest daughter visibly relaxed and nodded. Her grey eyes met his and he could see the fear in her eyes at being put in front of King and Queen like this. She had no one to protect her from the harsh words that Queen Cersei could inflict, and yet here she stood, tall, proud, afraid, but still without tears or backing down. Ned had never been more proud of his daughter than he was in this moment. He turned to face those his daughters stood before. "What is the meaning of this? Why wasn't I told my daughters had been found? Why weren't they returned to me at once?"

Lord Stark was looking at King Robert as he spoke, directly addressing the king, but it was the queen who answered. The queen, it seemed, who had been doing most of the talking since Torrhen had stepped in the room. "How dare you speak to your king in that manner!"

"Quiet woman!" King Robert finally spoke, finally snapping out of his own thoughts.

Torrhen remained silently as she watched him, her careful grey eyes watching how he projected himself as he apologised to his friend, explaining that it was best to get this situation out of the way as quickly as possible. Though his words sounded sincere, his body language was slow, sluggish. Torrhen couldn't determine whether or not he cared about the situation that was presented to him, and simply wanted to go back to drinking, or sleeping. Something creeped down her spine as she felt someone else staring at her as intently as she was staring at the king. Torrhen flicked her eyes and met the intense gaze of the Kingslayer. He still wore an amused look, but it was clouded by his calculating stare. Torrhen was vaguely aware of Arya fighting with Prince Joffery on the situation as she and the Kingslayer maintained eye contact. She wanted to look away, as there was something about his stare that made her uncomfortable, and created a sort of distrust and bitterness within her. She vividly remembered the same sort of stare when she saw the Kingslayer standing not far off as she fought bandits alone, and unarmed.

"Enough!" the king's roar dragged Torrhen's gaze and attention away from the Kingslayer and back on the situation she was currently in. "Now, child, you will tell me what happened. Tell it all, and tell it true. It is a great crime to lie to a king. When she is done, you will have your turn. Until then, hold your tongue." He said the last part to Prince Joffery, who had unmistakable anger marring his face. The king then turned his fierce gaze to Torrhen. "And then I will find out what your part is in all this."

Mutely, Torrhen nodded her head. She didn't know why, she didn't have to agree to what King Robert said, she'd be forced to do it anyway, but Torrhen felt compelled to reassure the king that she had acknowledge his words. Arya told her story, her words muddled together, voice thick from crying. Torrhen knew when her sister was lying, and she found only truth in the slightly terrified tone that Arya was speaking in. In amidst her story Lord Renly had to leave as his laughing disrupted Arya's story. On his way out, he made a comment on how he would love to hear the story of how someone as young as Arya managed to disarm Prince Joffery and throw his sword in the river. Prince Joffery told his version of events, which was much more violent on Arya's part and it made him look like a victim, as innocent as a maiden. Torrhen believed he was lying, for even a prince could not be as weak as to let a little girl disarm him as easily as he was letting on.

Once Prince Joffery's story had finished, King Robert stood, anger and frustration written clearly on his face. "Seven Hells! What am I to make of this? He tells me one version," he gestures to his son with one of his large arms. "And she tells me another. You! Girl! How are you involved in all this! And speak true, girl, I have no patience for lies."

"What point is there hearing this girl's tale," Queen Cersei asked from beside her son, looking every bit as frustrated as the King was. "Of course she'll tell lies and immediately side with her sister."

For the second time in the hour, King Robert bellowed at his wife to be quiet. Torrhen felt anger and annoyance rise in her at the Queen's accusations. She'd never do such a thing! She'd want to protect her sister but Torrhen would never purposely try and lie to help her sister, especially if Arya had wronged someone. That is not what her mother taught her, and that is not how she behaved. How dare the Queen try and accuse Torrhen of such things!

 _She is the Queen. She can do as she likes._ Robb's voice echoed in her head. Exasperation settled in amongst the annoyance and anger.

"Arya came to me, terrified out of her mind. She knew what she did was wrong, but she was afraid that they were going to hurt her direwolf," Torrhen started, trying not to fidget and keep as calm and as still as possible.

"So she fled to escape punishment?" the Queen demanded, her emerald eyes blazing with obvious resentment.

"No," Torrhen denied, shaking her head. Her auburn hair fluttering around her. "That's not what I meant. We went to the forest for the direwolves. Not to escape punishment."

"So you don't know what happened between my son and your sister?" the Queen asked, and there was no missing the slight venom when she mentioned Arya.

"Only what Arya has told me."

The exasperation was obvious. But Torrhen could do nothing, she was not present during the ordeal. She did not know what had happened between them, but trusted her younger sister's judgement enough. Especially since Arya had to be brave enough to chase away her own direwolf in order to protect her from what she did.

"Are you sure that's all you know?" the King leaned forward, training his hard blue gaze solely on Torrhen.

"Yes, Your Grace. I am sorry that I couldn't be of more assistance," Torrhen said solemnly.

The people in Court could say whatever they wanted about Torrhen, as gossip never really interested her as much as it did Sansa, but at least they couldn't say that she was without manners. If she were to marry a Southerner and adopt their customs, then she will make sure no one even had anything bad to say about her actions. Her pride demanded that she prove herself to be as courteous and lady-like as those who grew up in such an environment.

Lady Catelyn had always made sure that being from the North didn't make them above anyone else, and that their pride was just as strong as those from the South. Torrhen believed she could adapt to the South just as her mother had to adapt for the North when she married father. However, considering she was marrying the Kingslayer, whispers of those around Court - around the whole Seven _Kingdoms_ \- would follow her for her entire marriage.

King Robert gave an irritable throaty noise and fell back on his chair. One of his large hands rubbed over his face in frustration.

"The little she-wolf has injured the Prince, your _son_ , she must be punished," Cersei hissed out, not even bothering to be quiet or unbiased about such a thing.

"Quiet woman!" the King boomed, obviously fed up with the Queen's interference. "the Stark girl says differently. Why should I punish a little girl who could be telling the truth?"

The Queen looked venomous and if looks could kill, King Robert would become a cold corpse where he sat. Torrhen watched as Queen Cersei glared at her husband, and King Robert stared right back with a dangerous look on his red face.  They were married, but Torrhen saw that the Queen hated her husband with everything she had. It was strange, Torrhen wasn't completely naïve to think every political marriage was a happy one like her parents had - as it was common gossip through to North that Lord Bolton's wife hardly ever smiled.

"They were not the only ones present," Torrhen heard her father announce. He then proceeded to call out for Torrhen's other younger sister; Sansa.

The crowd parted, and Torrhen watched as two guards dressed in the colours of House Stark escorted Sansa through toward where their father was staying. Sansa looked miserable still dressed in her nightclothes with only a cloak to keep her warm. Although it was difficult to tell whether Sansa was upset over being woken from her slumber this late in the night, or over the ordeals that occurred earlier in the day.

"Tell us what happened," father demanded of Sansa.

Sansa took a hesitant step forward, looking as though she would rather be anywhere else in the Seven Kingdoms. Torrhen felt herself sympathise with her younger sister about wanting to be anywhere else. She'd felt that way since she'd been told that King Robert had planned to marry her off to the Kingslayer. Although this was an entirely different situation. It seemed to be a fight between two children, albeit between a prince and a young lady, but two children nonetheless.

Torrhen watched her younger sister glance from Arya, then to her precious prince, her Tully blue eyes glassy from tears that had been shed earlier. Once again, sympathy wormed its way into Torrhen's heart for young Sansa. No matter what her sisters had done, neither deserved to be put in a situation like this, both of them too young to understand the consequences of their actions. Every word said tonight would leave a lasting effect on both the prince, and his mother, and Torrhen knew that no matter what they said, they'd both think the worst of the Stark girls. Torrhen couldn't help but wish her sisters be a bit wiser about these kinds of things, or at least put their petty rivalry behind them and learn to get along. She was certain that if Sansa and Arya got along this whole situation could have been avoided.

"I don't know," Sansa finally said. "Everything happened so fast, I didn't see -"

The next moment was both unexpected and unsurprising.

Arya flew at Sansa in a fit of rage. "You rotten!" she screeched, as she started to hit Sansa. "Liar! Liar! Liar! Liar!"

Both Torrhen and her father intervened immediately. Torrhen pulled a raging Arya off of Sansa who hardly even attempted to fight back, or even defend herself from the oncoming attacks. The eldest Stark sister had trapped her sisters body by pulling her flush against her body and securing her arms around the younger Stark to prevent her from flailing.

Their father used his 'Lord's voice' as he shouted at Arya to stop it. He then proceeded to help Sansa up off the floor and make sure she was alright. However, it seemed as if Sansa had disappeared and retreated far into her own mind as she remained unmoving and silent. All she did was stare at Arya who was slowly losing her fight, and dissolving into tears. Torrhen turned Arya around so that she was crying into her dress for the second time that day. She resisted the urge to reach out to Sansa who looked like she was beyond tears at that point, but in need of comfort no less than Arya. However, Torrhen was afraid that Arya would once again take her frustrations out on Sansa, and instead hoped that their father's minimal gestures of comfort were enough.

"The girl is as wild as that filthy animal of hers," Queen Cersei spat, not even bothering to hide her disgust. "Robert, I want her punished."

"Seven Hells," King Robert swore, becoming more irritated as the moments passed. "Cersei look at her, she's just a child. What would you have me do? Whip her through the streets? Children fight, it's done. No lasting harm was done."

Surprise filled Torrhen at that king’s words. She didn't he would be so diplomatic about the current situation they were in, especially with the blatantly obvious disgust and rage that his wife was displaying. Torrhen had thought he wanted to keep the queen happy and quiet, since that is what Torrhen would do if she was married to someone as annoyingly persistent about these things.

The thought of being married to someone annoyingly persistent as Queen Cersei had given her a harsh reminder of her own betrothal to Jaime Lannister. Ser Jaime and Queen Cersei were twins, and twins carried many similarities. Torrhen was more than aware of this information, as there were many similarities between herself and Robb. So it could be very likely that Ser Jaime was annoyingly persistent as his female counterpart, which meant that she was going to marry that type of person. Dread filled her as she glanced at the blond knight himself, who looked completely at ease, and slightly amused at the situation that had unfolded.

"Joff will carry those scars for the rest of his life," Queen Cersei remarked harshly, unhappy about the kings slightly apathetic and exasperated disposition toward his son being _slightly_ injured.

"So he will," King Robert agreed, looking at his eldest son. For a moment, Torrhen was afraid that the king had given in to the tireless persistence of his wife. "Perhaps they will teach him a less. Ned, see that your daughter is disciplined, I will do the same to my son."

"Gladly, your Grace," Lord Stark agreed, sounding just as relieved as Torrhen felt.

For the briefest of moments, Torrhen allowed herself to feel relief. King Robert had stood up and started to make his way out. It seemed as if this situation had ended, although Torrhen knew that Queen Cersei would not forget anytime soon. Queen Cersei indeed had pride that rivalled a kings, and the ability to hold grudges like a northernmen that had been wronged. That seemed like a terrifying combination in a person with as much power as Cersei Lannister held, Torrhen thought. Still, she was glad that King Robert hadn't given out any sort of punishment and had left that to her father, which she knew wouldn't be anywhere near as harsh as Queen Cersei wanted it.

"And what of the direwolf?" the queen called after her husband, seemingly not satisfied with King Robert's decision. "What of the beast that savaged your son?"

Dread had settled itself more securely in the depths of Torrhen's stomach at the queens’ words. Although there was the slightest bit of relief at the knowledge that both Arya and Torrhen had chased their direwolves away, safe from whatever punishment Queen Cersei could think up for them. And Torrhen didn't doubt that the queen could get creative with her punishment, or at least those she hired to do the punishing for her.

"I'd forgotten about the damn direwolf," the king said, turning back toward his wife.

Torrhen felt Arya tense in her arms at the turn of conversation toward Nymeria. In response, she pulled her arms tighter around Arya's small body in attempt to hide her discomfort, and avoid her being questioned by the king about the whereabouts of Nymeria. Although, Torrhen didn't miss how her father's gaze had briefly landed on Arya. He then gave Torrhen a questioning glance about the youngest Stark's girls change in posture. Luckily, he didn't say anything, instead focussing his attention back on King Robert.

"I'm afraid there was no trace of the direwolf, your Grace" Ser Jaime spoke up, sounding almost serious. Torrhen was surprised, as he sounded much more serious now than he did in the stable in Winterfell.

"No? Then so be it," the king said, hardly bothering to sound unhappy at that piece of information.

"Perhaps my bride-to-be has any clue to where the direwolf had run off too, since her own appears to be missing as well," Ser Jaime added slowly, taking satisfaction when Torrhen gave him a sharp glare. The look was only for a moment before it flitted away and her countenance dissolved into an empty one.

Anger had flooded Torrhen so suddenly at the Kingslayers words that she was afraid he somehow knew what they'd done. If Queen Cersei found out that Arya and Torrhen had chased away their beloved direwolves to escape whatever punishment Nymeria would get for injuring the prince, she couldn't imagine Arya - or even herself - would be able to leave this disagreement unharmed. Perhaps Queen Cersei would call off the betrothal between her twin and Torrhen, most likely claiming that someone as great as himself couldn't marry a liar or other much more horrible words. In all honesty, that would be perfectly convenient for Torrhen who had no other reason to marry the Kingslayer other than to avoid bringing shame upon her family.  However, she was more worried about what punishments Arya would endure for participating in such a thing. Torrhen didn't want to imagine what Arya would be put through by the queen, so she did the only thing she could; lie through her teeth and hope King Robert would believe her.

Everyone in the room was looking at Torrhen very expectantly, most out of curiosity of what she information she could provide about the missing direwolves. Torrhen was suddenly very aware that everyone in the room was staring at her, but even through that, the only one who matter was the Kingslayer himself who was doing a very poor job of struggling to fight the amusement that adorned his aggravatingly handsome face. Unsurprisingly, Torrhen had a very strong urge to march over to that stupid oath breaker and turn his beautiful face black and blue.

"Well? Do you know where the damned beasts went?" King Robert demanded of her.

Arya shifted in Torrhen's arms, moving so that she could look up at her older sister. Torrhen glanced down, and felt the look of absolute misery on Arya's soft face pierce straight through her heart. Without any words being passed between them, Torrhen knew exactly why Arya was looking at her with such pleading eyes. Torrhen knew what her youngest sister would want even without looking at her. Lying to the King of the Seven Kingdoms was treason, but if Sansa could get away with it, then so could she.

"No," Torrhen answered, with a tone of finality. She made sure to sound confident in her answers. "Arya was hysteric when I found her, I think that scared them away."

Unwisely, Torrhen stole a glimpse at the queen. When they had first met in Winterfell and Torrhen had made the mistake of saying the wrong thing to Queen Cersei who held the pride of her entire family, the eldest Stark girl had thought that _that_ was the queen's face she made when she was angry. But the look on her face then was a candle to the fire of rage the queen now looked at her with. Torrhen resisted the urge to flinch at the fear that the queen was instilling in her at that moment.

"There you have it," King Robert said, barely even looking at his golden wife. "She doesn't know where that bloody beast is."

"A hundred golden dragons to the man who brings me its pelt!" the queen announced, growing unhappier the more she was denied the punishment that she thought Arya deserved.

"A costly pelt. I want no part in this, woman. You can damn well buy your furs with your Lannister gold."

The queen hardly reacted to her husband's words. "I had not thought you so niggardly. The king I'd thought to wed would have laid a wolf skin across my bed by sundown."

Anger seemed to be the only reaction King Robert had to his Lannister wife, that and exasperation. "That would be a fine trick, without a wolf."

"We have a wolf," Queen Cersei said. It had been the first thing she had said all night that didn't hold a tone of unhappiness or displeasure.

There was a moment of silence as the king contemplated her words, before he gave a shrug, turning uncaring once again. "As you will. Have Ser Ilyn see to it.

A gasp forced its way out of Torrhen once she realised the implications of Queen Cersei's words. Her father had also come to realise what the golden queen had meant, and seemed just as upset about it as Torrhen was.

"Robert, you cannot mean this," Lord Stark objected.

The king was not persuaded by the words from the man he considered his brother, instead going ahead and calling direwolves savage beasts, giving a poor attempt to convince Lord Stark that the direwolf would turn against his daughters eventually, and stating that Sansa would be much happier with a dog.

 _He doesn't understand_ , was the only thing that was going thought Torrhen's mind. No one understood except for the Stark children themselves, and their bastard brother. The Warden of the North himself barely understood as well, so there was absolutely no chance that King Robert and his family of golden haired Lannister's to completely understand the bond all the Stark children had with their direwolf counterparts. Their animal companions weren't pets; every Stark child had understood that as soon as they had been allowed to keep the small beasts. The direwolves had evolved from being a pet, to becoming an equal and trusted friend, even more so than the all the Stark children were to each other. Torrhen had strongly believed that her direwolf could understand what she wanted, or needed before Torrhen even realised it herself. She didn't know how or why, but each direwolf had felt like a part of each Stark whom they were given too.

Sansa turned to her father, her eyes wide and frightful. It was then that Torrhen understood that Sansa had finally caught onto what the queen was implying. "He doesn't mean Lady, does he?" Tears had begun to pool in her eyes at her father's silence, knowing what it meant. "No. Not Lady, Lady didn't bite anybody, she's good."

"Lady wasn't there!" Arya had said loudly, and angrily, startling Torrhen. She had changed from being miserable to angry as soon as she realised what was being left unsaid. "You leave her alone!"

Something awful rooted itself within the depths of Torrhen's chest toward the triumphed-faced queen and her horrible, smiling son. Resentment burrowed itself in Torrhen as the only thoughts she managed to conjure in that moment were enough to make even Robb disappointed with her if he had ever found out what she was currently thinking. She hated Cersei Lannister and her rotten son so much in that single moment that she couldn't even find the decency to be ashamed of herself for feeling such a way about her queen and the crowned prince. Torrhen was afraid to open her mouth to defend her sister's direwolf, in fear that anything she said would make the situation much worse than it currently was.

Being separated from her direwolf in such a way, Torrhen couldn't even comprehend such a thing. Even though both Arya and Torrhen had chased away their direwolves earlier in the day, there was still the vain hope that Torrhen held that she'd see her beloved Icus again. Sansa was about to be permanently separated that she held so closely to herself. None of the Stark children had loved anything as much as they loved the once small beasts their father had brought home for them.

And Lady, poor Lady, who was the most docile direwolf out of the litter. Lady was as polite and gentle as Sansa was. Lady didn't deserve death.

Torrhen had become so absorbed in the shock of potentially losing another direwolf, this time however, much more permanently that the other two, that she had missed what had been said. She only tuned into her surroundings once more as she heard her father shouting coldly at King Robert's retreating figure. His voice was cold steel as he demanded that King Robert kill Sansa's direwolf himself, angry at the fact that his closest friend had chosen to sate the selfish wishes of his Lannister wife who always got what she wanted, over the innocent happiness of the child of the man he considered his brother.

It was difficult to understand now more than ever, that the warrior at the Trident who fought and killed Rhaegar Targaryen was running away from his responsibility as the one who passed the sentence and be the one to swing the sword and kill Lady. He'd rather go and drink until he passed out than to face the consequences of sentencing a docile, young direwolf. Torrhen found it utterly disappointing that this is how the once great stag from Storm's End had chosen to act. Slaughter the innocent to satisfy his queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave comments and tell me what you think
> 
> i need to be validated lmao


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl this is more of a filler i had this chapter written a while ago but forgot to post it 
> 
> but don't worry i got another one coming that isn't a filler got a new laptop which hopefully means more updates

_Robb,_

_Sansa's direwolf, Lady, is dead. Queen Cersei had her killed because Nymeria bit Joffrey. Nymeria and Icus had run away, which is why Lady had to die. It has been a day and I miss Icus already. Make sure Grey Wind, Shaggydog and Bran's direwolf are well looked after, for Arya, Sansa, and I. The South is looking much lonelier that I had anticipated._

_I haven't talked much to the Kingslayer on our journey, but I expect that will change once we arrive in Kingslanding. There hasn't been much talk about the wedding, thank the Gods. I suppose I have Queen Cersei to thank for that, as she is the one to be planning it. I've been avoiding them as much as possible, and since I was attacked it seems they have been avoiding me._

_The attack scared me a little, but I am perfectly fine. There is no need for you to worry, you know better than most that I am able to take care of myself. I am as much of a helpless maiden as you are, brother. Don't fret over me, you have enough to worry about as it is. Please._

_Give mother, Bran, and Rickon my love for me. I promise to write more of what has happened once we arrive in Kingslanding._

_Tori_

Sealing the letter, Torrhen addressed it to Robb before handing it off to Jory Cassel, who promised that it would be delivered to her twin brother with the men who were escorting the corpse to Sansa's direwolf, Lady. Torrhen had wanted to write much more than that, but she had little time to write everything she wished to say to Robb. Instead, she quickly wrote out what she could, knowing that once they had arrived in Kingslanding, Torrhen could write out everything that had happened on their journey to the Red Keep.

It had been more than two moons that they had left Winterfell, which meant it had been two moons since Torrhen had had the chance to talk to someone who understands her. Talking with her sisters was hardly a fulfilling affair, since they were both too young to have an invigorating conversation with, and were always preoccupied with their own activities. Lord Stark was far too busy with more important matters to stay and have more than a short, tired conversation while they all dined together at dusk. No one else could hold a discussion the same way Robb could. The Stark twins spent hours of their time sitting together debating numerous different subject, and talking inquisitively about other topics. Although most around Winterfell preferred the latter, as their debates often became too loud, and usually ended with an intervention of a third party; most often it was Jon who came along to tell them to be quiet. Torrhen sorely missed her brothers and the antics they managed to get up to for such high born children.

Before the King and his Court had come north to Winterfell, there was only one time in her life that Torrhen had felt this cheerless, and that had been years ago when she was a young girl. That time had passed, and Torrhen had been able to find the happy carelessness that children possessed. Before Sansa's direwolf had been forced to die, both of Torrhen's younger sisters had had the same disposition. Though, Arya was much careless than Sansa could ever dream to be. Still, both were relatively happy, and the arrival of the Royal Court was another adventure to experience. Torrhen had felt her happiness start to slip away when it was announced that she was to marry the Kingslayer. Icus, and her family had been two of the few things that could make Torrhen genuinely smile. The death of Lady had put an abrupt end to both of those things.

With the absence of their direwolves, the road to Kingslanding had become much more desolate than it had ever been before. When Torrhen had Icus constantly in her company, travelling to the Red Keep had become an exciting experience that Torrhen could share with her twin back in Winterfell. The picturesque landscape seemed to stretch endlessly, and was something different to look at than riding around in the Wolfswood. The landscape surrounding Winterfell was less vibrant than the landscape the Kings Road provided. The absence of cold had allowed for much more colour to grow throughout the land. Although Winterfell did have its own share of colourful plants, the summer snow had settled over everything, leaving only the pure, blindingly white snow.

The only good thing to come out of this entire ordeal was the Kingslayer had become preoccupied with his duties as a member of the Kingsguard to come and bother her. To which she was grateful for. Dealing with Jaime Lannister as well as dealing with the loss of the direwolves, and the melancholic behaviour of her sisters would be too much for Torrhen to deal with. Especially with the loss of her direwolves, Torrhen wouldn't be able to control her anger at his fraudulent sympathy and smug expressions. And Torrhen couldn't afford to let her temper get the better of her, it was better to avoid him altogether and only speak when absolutely necessary. She anticipated arriving at Kingslanding after travelling for so long, but at the same time dreaded when they finally arrived, as it would mean the beginning of the planning of her wedding to the Kingslayer, and a step closer to being stuck with him forever.

* * *

The arrival to Kingslanding was far less joyful, and more tiring that what was expected. It was almost as if everyone had run out of energy as soon as they walked through the gates. They had come through the back gates, being told that there would be less people to pass through, specifically for the Queen and her overly large carriage house. However, as they passed through the gates, Torrhen was overwhelmed by the amount of people bustling around inside.

Torrhen sat with her sisters, and their Septa, taking in their surroundings as they slowly rolled in through the gates. There was almost too much happening for Torrhen to comprehend. People shuffled around in the streets, bumping into one another as they moved out of the way for their particularly large travelling party. She spotted children running through the streets, dodging and weaving between everyone taller than them. Merchants and customers alike shouted at each other, trying to be heard over everyone else who was also yelling. The smell was something Torrhen hadn't expected at all. Everyone talks about the beauty and vibrancy of Kingslanding, but no one ever said that it smelled like the privy after one of her brothers had been in it. Torrhen scrunched her nose at the smell, and desperately wished she was back in Winterfell.

"Take the girls inside, and look after them," the new Hand of the King told his daughters Septa.

"Where are you going?" Torrhen asked her father, as all three girls looked to their father.

"I have a meeting to attend to, I'll be back by supper," he informed, trying not to think about his duties ahead.

"Already? We just got here?" Torrhen let slip. She hadn't meant to say that, it made her sound like her younger sisters, and she wasn't supposed to be. She was the oldest out of the three of them, she is supposed to be the responsible one.

"I have my duties," Lord Stark told his daughter. "I will be back by supper."

With that, the Warden of the North trotted away on his horse. Torrhen and her sisters were led away to continue their journey to the Red Keep.

There was a flurry of activity as the three Northern girls were all taken to the Tower of the Hand where they were to stay with their father. It had taken a while to get all their things up into the rooms where they slept as there were a lot of steps to climb with their trunks. As Torrhen followed her trunk to the chamber she was to stay in, Sansa was behind her claiming that both of them should be staying in the Maidenvault instead since they were both betrothed. Arya retorted that Sansa wasn't old enough to stay in the Maidenvault, which sparked an argument between the two younger Stark girls. Their Septa had intervened at this point, attempting to calm Sansa whose yelling had become borderline hysterical, whilst simultaneously scolding Arya for starting the fight. Torrhen at this point had the beginning of a headache, as the dull ache had begun to set in behind her eyelids. In order to stop the fight before it made her headache worse, she pushed both her sisters into their own chambers and closed the doors, telling them she wasn't letting them out till they had both calmed down. More yelling ensured. Arya tried pulling her door open, but Torrhen held it closed, sighing and rubbing her temple.

"I don't think this is the proper way to deal with your sisters," Septa Mordane observed sounding unimpressed.

"But they are dealt with," Torrhen countered.

The septa frowned at Torrhen, obviously unhappy with the way Sansa and Arya were dealt with but didn't say a word more. After all, both girls were quiet in their rooms, which was a good thing for Torrhen since she didn't have to listen to her sisters bicker anymore. She'd done enough of that on the road here, now that they were finally in one place, she could escape whenever the two became unruly. Maybe now that they were in one place, they'd probably go off and do their own thing. Sansa going to dine with the other ladies in court, fitting right in with all her courtesies, and Arya would probably go off exploring.

Torrhen was unsure what she would do now that they were here in Kingslanding. Joining the other ladies seemed like a dull affair. She hadn't spared them a glance since she was attacked on the King's Road, not wanting to listen to them go on about how brave it was for Ser Jaime to rescue her, and how he was gallant knight for rescuing his betrothed, and how utterly romantic the situation was. She lied and said that he had saved her, but her lies would lose effect if she was asked anymore questions.

With a sigh, Torrhen left the septa and returned to her own chambers where she began to unpack her own things. The room around her was made from a sandy coloured stone that mirrored the sunny sky that shined through her open window. However, touching the wall, it didn't hold the same warmth that the walls in the castle of Winterfell had. Her room was rather bare, with a bed in one corner, a desk near the window and chest for her to put her things in. At Winterfell, her room had many things of hers, things she'd made, thing her and her siblings had made, things they had collected.

Sitting heavily on the bed in the room, Torrhen realised she was painfully homesick. She'd never left Winterfell before, and even though she had her sisters and her father, it still wasn't the same. She longed to be back in the North, riding around the Wolfswood with Robb and Jon. She missed playing in the snow with her siblings. She wished to sit by the fire, practicing her needle work with her sisters while her mother sang. It seemed like she spent most of her days reminiscing about her home, since she knew it would be a long time before she got to it again.

Torrhen would be a married woman the next time she saw Winterfell. She hoped that the Kingslayer would let her visit after they are married.

At the thought of being married to the Kingslayer, Torrhen flopped backwards onto the bed, covering her face with her hands. She wondered how long it would be before they were to be married. Sansa was lucky in her betrothal, as she was still young and had yet to flower, so Torrhen guessed it would be some years before even the planning of that marriage. It would be sooner for Torrhen as she was already a woman flowered, and overdue for marriage in the eyes of some. Still, preparations had to be made, and her betrothed in question had yet to be released from his duty as a member of the Kingsguard.

She thought idly of the Jaime Lannister and his involvement in the Kingsguard. He was the youngest man to ever join the Kingsguard, giving up his title as lord, and inheritance to Casterly Rock. The Lion of Lannister even managed to stay within the ranks of Kingsguard after he murdered the Mad King. Now, he would be the only man to have been released from the Kingsguard before death could claim him. Bitterly, Torrhen hoped death would claim the Kingslayer before they were to be married.

A small part of Torrhen envied him, though. Joining the Kingsguard to protect the King, and coincidentally being able to be in the same vicinity as his twin. Robb would never be able to do that, nor would he. Torrhen knew her twin, and knew that he could never give up his responsibilities as heir to Winterfell as easily as Jaime Lannister did. Not that he would ever want to give up being heir of Winterfell to protect a king. If a king couldn't protect himself, he was not fit to be king, Torrhen could hear Robb saying.

Torrhen missed Robb. Not having him around after being practically inseparable for their entire life felt unnatural. Having her direwolf, Icus, around at least made it bearable. However, since she had been forced to give up that part of her, Torrhen just felt sad all the time. And she knew her sisters were the same too. They would fight now worse than before, and she knew they were just taking out their frustrations and pain of losing their direwolves on each other.

Thinking of the dead and missing direwolves, Torrhen found that she couldn't stand to wallow by herself in her bedchambers. There was still some hours before the sun would set, which gave Torrhen some time to wander the Red Keep, since they were escorted straight to the Tower of the Hand.

"Septa?" Torrhen called out, stepping out of her bed chambers.

"Yes, Torrhen?" their Septa approached Torrhen, looking concerned. "Did you need help unpacking? I was just about to help Arya; the Mother knows that she won't do it herself."

Smiling, Torrhen shook her head. "No, I was just going to tell you that I'm going for a walk."

The Septa frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea, why don't you go tomorrow after we've all settled?"

"I'm already settled; I want to go for a walk. Don't worry, I'll take an escort."

With that, Torrhen moved to walk out the door, the Northern soldier who stood there guarding it silently following her out. She didn't know his name, since she'd never really had the need for a guard to follow her around, so there had never been any reason to get to know her father's soldiers. Winterfell had always been a safe place for her, even while they were travelling she didn't travel with an escort, as her direwolf was all the protection she needed. However, since Torrhen was attacked on the Kingsroad, and since her direwolf had left her, her father had ordered his men to accompany the girls should they wander off alone.

This slightly irritated Torrhen, who wanted to remind her father that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, but she stayed silent instead. The logical part of her understood that it was to ease her father's worry about his daughters. Even Arya managed not to fight with their father about it. Torrhen guessed that she had been feeling lonely since Nymeria had left and her friend, Mycah had been killed. Even though they were only guards to protect the three Stark daughters, they were better than having no one around at all.

"Is there anywhere in particular you are heading to, m'lady?" the soldier asked as he shadowed her.

"Not really," Torrhen sighed. "I just wanted to get out of there."

"I don't blame you," the soldier admitted, making Torrhen turn back at him with a perplexed expression. "Sometimes the young ladies can be a bit much, especially these days."

Torrhen couldn't help but smile sadly. Ever since their direwolves had left their company, it had been difficult for Arya and Sansa to sit in the same room together. Both girls blaming each other for what had happened, and were still hurting for losing their closest companions. Torrhen was hurting too, and never held it against her sisters. She couldn't do that to them, and instead opted to try and keep the peace between them, which proved to be a very difficult task as both of them were just as stubborn as each other.

"It will pass, they are hurting after what happened, but they will get over it now that we're in Kingslanding."

"What about you, m'lady? Will you be alright?"

 _No_ , was Torrhen's first thought. She didn't think she would ever be the same person she was when she left, and she was still trying to figure out if that was a bad thing or not. Even though she was in the South, and the sun shined endlessly, reflecting off the ocean making it glimmer prettily, Torrhen's days seemed dull and dreary.

She was lonely.

There was nothing that she looked forward to anymore, or even seemed to enjoy. All the activities that she actually liked to do had been taken away from her, and she was left with the task of acting like a lady. The only things left to do were to mindlessly chatter, and drink tea, and sing, and all those other things that were too simple of a task to actually enjoy. Torrhen forced her way through it, hoping that it was because she was missing Winterfell and the other half of her family. She had hoped that she could be like her mother and adjust to the South. That idea, however, seemed like it was just a dream. With nothing to look forward to, how can Torrhen possibly continue to enjoy her life?

"I sincerely hope so, Ser."

The solider behind her laughed. "I am no Ser."

"Then what are you?"

The soldier that was escorting had opted for walking next to her, instead of just shadowing her. He was still wearing his helmet, perhaps preferring to remain anonymous. He couldn't hide his smile, though, Torrhen could hear it when he spoke, and she vaguely wondered what he was so please about.

"Nothing but a man doing as he should."

Furrowing her eyebrows at his strange answer, Torrhen decided not to think too much about it. Her head still ached a little from her sisters fighting earlier in the day. Her escort stayed silent after that, dropping back to follow behind Torrhen once again as she walked, falling back into his duties. With nothing else to say or do, Torrhen had chosen to find their Godswood, hoping to find solace there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls don't forget to comment i need validation


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldnt wait to post this one two chapters in one day what a miracle (pls dont expect it to happen again)

The Red Keep was much bigger than her home in Winterfell, thus it was easier for her to get lost in its hallways. It also didn't help that they had only arrived in Kingslanding that day, and no one had shown up yet to guide them through the Red Keep yet. Not that Torrhen wanted any help learning to hallways of the Red Keep, as she found it was much easier to learn something by doing it yourself. That is why she ended up wondering the halls with only her Northern guard as company, neither of them knowing where they were going, hoping to end up in the Godswood.

Torrhen noted that the Red Keep had a lot of stairwells, as she found herself walking down many of them. She supposed that is because there seemed to be many towers, as she was staying in the Tower of the Hand. She wasn't entirely opposed to them however, since she had given up most physical activities because of her betrothal, having to walk up and down a lot of stairs would keep her physical discipline up.

Her guard had diligently followed her as she guided them through numerous hallways, taking turns and going down staircases that she hoped would lead in the direction outside. He said nothing as he walked a step behind her, keeping an eye on every Lannister guard they passed. For that she was thankful. She was betrothed to Jaime Lannister, as she as sure all the guards knew, so she doubted that they would try to hurt her. However, there was always that tiny niggling of fear in the back of her mind that one or more of them would try to maim her on the orders of her future-husband, in an attempt to get himself out of this marriage. 

She wished she could carry her bow and a quiver of arrows around with her at all times, needing to feel safe against a number of unknown enemies. There were no enemies she could see, only an old rivalry that festered as years passed by into something ugly and cruel. Something that she was supposed to fix with a marriage. Something that could get her hurt or worse because of a marriage.

"We've finally found the courtyard," the guard said from behind Torrhen. "It's like a maze in there."

"I think that's because we're too used to Winterfell," Torrhen replies, smiling at the warmth of the sun shining on your face.

"I'd rather be there than here," the guard murmurs.

Torrhen snickers. "You and me, both."

Torrhen pauses in the courtyard, unsure on which way to go. She didn't know where the Godswood was, she didn't know where anything was as she had just arrived. She was trying to escape to the Godswood in order to quell her frazzled emotions. It was rather overwhelming travelling so far and knowing that it would be a long time till she would be able to see her home again. The Godswood was probably the only place she would feel safe, because it was the only place that would remind her of home, even if it didn't have the Weirwood tree that the Godswood in Winterfell had.

"I think the Godswood is this way, m'lady," Torrhen's escort pointed in a direction, one that was lined with bushes and shrubs and in the distance she could see trees.

"Perhaps we should've asked someone for directions before we left," Torrhen sighed, heading toward the trees she saw.

"Perhaps," the guard repeated. "But that's less fun, and this way you'll learn your way around the castle quicker."

"Not that it will matter much," Torrhen mutters bitterly.

"Jaime Lannister has to be relieved of his vows before he marries you, m'lady, and if he's as unhappy with it as you are, I have no doubt that he'll want to put it off as long as possible."

Pausing, Torrhen turned to look at her escort. He knew more than he let on, she observed as he started down at her, the faintest smile on his face. "What is your name exactly? If you work for my father shouldn't I at least know your name?"

The man smiled, "Edwin."

"Edwin?" Torrhen asks, not sure on whether he was lying.

Edwin chuckled. "It's why I'm not a knight. Ser Edwin doesn't have a nice ring to it."

"No, but it's easier to say," Torrhen shrugs, continuing her walk in the direction of where she hoped the Godswood was.

"I am right, though, you don't have to worry about time to enjoy yourself here in the Capital. Your betrothed will put it off as long as possible."

"But it will happen eventually."

"Something to worry about later, then," Edwin tells Torrhen, making her smile.

He had a fair point. Torrhen realised that no one would be rushing to have them married. Queen Cersei despised her; Torrhen was sure that she was looking for a way to annul their engagement - not that she'd be complaining. King Robert probably wouldn't care about it now that he was back in his home with wine and women to distract him from his duties. Her Lord Father definitely wouldn't remind the King of her marriage, and Lord Tywin was at Casterly Rock, and the only way he'd convince anyway to hurry along this engagement was if he came here himself.

Torrhen decided that Edwin was right. There was no real reason to fret over her engagement and marriage. The Kingslayer was most likely going to kill her before being forced to marry her - something Torrhen was strangely okay with. She didn't want to die, obviously, but fighting the Kingslayer was preferable to the inevitable bedding ceremony that would take place. She imagined nothing worse than southern lords grabbing at her and dragging her to her marriage bed where she would be forced to consummate the marriage. Torrhen was afraid she'd up killing someone.

Remembering that she would actually have to consummate her marriage, she quickly changed her mind to that being the worse thing she could imagine. It seemed as if her entire marriage was her own nightmare come true. Perhaps when she arrived at the Godswood she could ask the gods - old and new - why they had allowed this to happen to her.

The Godswood was much brighter than she was used to. She assumed that she had found the Godswood because it was quieter than the rest of the gardens around the Red Keep, and less vibrant. There was less colour where she found herself, only rows of small trees and shrubbery. This Godswood confused her a little, as she was only used the one in Winterfell. The most noticeable different was that there was no Weirwood tree, they were all cut down when the Andals invaded hundreds of years ago.

There wasn't the bleeding eyes of the old gods watching over the people of Kingslanding, there was no old gods watching over her. It was rather unsettling to Torrhen, not having the heart tree there. Without it, the Godswood was much more welcoming. It felt like more of a garden to enjoy than a place to worship the old gods.

"This is much different than back North," Edwin observed.

Torrhen made a noise of agreement. "It's much warmer here."

"That's because there are no old gods here."

"Just because there's no Weirwood tree doesn't mean the old gods aren't here," Torrhen frowned, feeling uneasy.

"I'm afraid you're wrong, m'lady. The old gods see through the heart trees, if there are no trees to see through, they can't watch over us here. It's why Northerners don't come South." Edwin explained. "It's why the Starks should never come South."

He said the last part quietly, Torrhen didn't know if it was so she wasn't supposed to hear it but she did anyway. She couldn't help but reluctantly agree. The last time Stark's had come South, it had started a war and tore their family apart only leaving her lord father alive. She prayed that it wouldn’t happen again. There were still half her family in Winterfell, as it should be. The same fate wouldn't befall them while they were here.

Even though it felt more like a garden than a Godswood, it was peaceful to wander around amongst the trees. She had a feeling that she would be coming here often.

"My Lady."

Torrhen glanced up at her betrothed, the feelings of peace and warmth retreating. She had watched him approach, hoping that perhaps he was doing his rounds as a member of the Kingsguard, and not coming to greet her. She had been wrong.

Jaime Lannister stood in front of her, his armour gleaming in the afternoon sun. He looked handsome, she thought, as he stood tall and proud with his golden hair shining. She supposed his eyes would be pretty too, the emerald green colour reminded her of gems, but the look in his eyes ruined it for him. He was sharp, his eyes cutting through her like a sword would. Other than that, there was nothing behind his eyes, no prevalent emotion. His eyes shined with malicious amusement, but there was nothing else behind it, as if there was nothing inside of him.

Torrhen supposed that she shouldn't be surprised about that. Serving under the Mad King and Robert Baratheon consecutively would bleed the life from you, she thought. And killing the king he was sworn to protect is not a task easily done for someone who feels things like hope and happiness. She wondered if Ser Jaime was born like that, or serving under the Mad King had made him like that.

She wondered what Ser Jaime would've been like in his youth.

"My Lord," she greeted politely, inclining her head in acknowledgement.

She didn't smile at him. Torrhen realised a second later. She was a lady, she was supposed to smile and look pretty, but she couldn't find it within herself to smile at the Kingslayer out of force politeness. Perhaps it was because she promised to never lie to him. Perhaps it was because she found the company of him to be so vile that she simply couldn’t.

Jaime’s gaze travelled over to her guard. “May I speak to my betrothed alone?”

“I am a sworn guard of Lady Torrhen, I cannot leave her side unless she asked it of me,” Edwin spoke, not bothering to be friendly toward Ser Jaime either.

Irritation flickered briefly in his features. It was only for a second, but she caught it nonetheless and added it to the list of emotions she was sure that the Kingslayer felt.

“You are in the Red Keep, there is no one here to do her harm, your presence is not needed.”

He was patronising her guard, she knew. Most likely trying to get a rise out of him, for what reason she didn’t know. From the few conversations she had with the Kingslayer, she knew he enjoyed teasing her, maybe he liked doing that to everyone. It certainly seemed so.

Torrhen glanced back at her guard, giving him a nod. “It’s alright.”

Edwin locked eyes with Torrhen, before moving his gaze back toward Ser Jaime, pinning him with a hard stare. “I’ll be in shouting distance, m’lady.”

Edwin brushed past her, glaring heatedly at Ser Jaime as he passed him as well, disappearing further into the Godswood. Torrhen was grateful for the guard her father had chosen for her. The Northern men who father had brought with him to the capital were the most loyal out of all the men that served them. Men from the North were different than men from the South, her father had always told her. They are forever loyal to House Stark because the North remembers. She was too young to understand what that meant when he first told her, but meeting the Lannisters had changed that. Torrhen hoped her father would gift her with a guard or two to follow her when she married the Kingslayer.

“You have such loyal guards,” Ser Jaime commented, taking a step closer to her. Torrhen forced herself to stay rooted in the spot and not to take a step back away from him. “Of course, there is no need, we are all friends here in the Capital.”

Somehow, Torrhen knew that wasn’t true. “Is there something you wanted, Ser Jaime?”

The corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile. Or what would classify as a smile, there was no joy in his eyes for it to really be a smile. “Must I want something? Can I not enjoy the company of my future wife?”

Torrhen was taken aback, confused by his remark. In her mind, she knew that he wasn’t being serious. There was no way he meant that seriously, she knew he wasn’t exactly fond of her. That much had been obvious when he let her get attacked on the King’s Road.

“Forgive me, Ser, I just thought you would have duties to attend to and would be much too busy to court me.”

She hid her surprise behind her manners and courtesies. Torrhen did think that he would be otherwise preoccupied while he still served as a Kingsguard, and thought that would give her some freedom to do as she pleased until the wedding.

“As it appears, you are correct. I am not here of my own volition, the queen has asked you to dine with her today, and I offered to fetch you. Your sister has also been asked and is already there.”

Fear curled around her throat at the prospect of dining with the queen. She had barely looked at Queen Cersei since the night she had ordered for the death of Sansa’s direwolf. The queen hated her, there was no denying it. Torrhen had done nothing to warrant the queen’s affection, especially since she offended her the first time she met. And now she was marrying her twin brother.

Queen Cersei was only treating her because it was expected of her. As the twin sister of the man she was betrothed to, Queen Cersei was expected to get to know Torrhen as they were to be sisters by marriage. For some reason, that frightened Torrhen. She was about to throw to the lions for the rest of her life.

Torrhen had the urge to run away.

“Of course, my lord.” She couldn’t run away, however, she had duties to attend to. “I am honoured to be treated with the queen.”

If she learned how to navigate court and House Lannister early, perhaps she’ll more comfortable in her new home when the time came. Maybe herself and Queen Cersei could even be friends in time. They’ll laugh about the circumstances in which they met and she could tell Torrhen about the Kingslayer to remove some of the mystery that surrounds him.

“Let’s not keep her waiting any longer,” Ser Jaime advised.

The Kingslayer stepped aside, letting Torrhen pass him as they made their way out of the Godswood. Her guard had soundlessly joined them, walking a step behind her. Ser Jaime led them out of the Godswood with much more ease than they had trying to find it. He wordlessly guided them through the courtyards and corridors.

Torrhen didn’t say anything else, not knowing what exactly to say. She was taught to make pleasant conversation with people, as befitting her role of a lady, but Torrhen didn’t think the Kingslayer would participate in mindless chatter. And if he did, she had the feeling he would do it to make fun of her. Torrhen was at a lost on what to do.

“Who taught you to fight?” Ser Jaime spoke up, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Ser?”

He turned to look at her, his green eyes calculating as he studied her. “Those bandits, you killed all four of them but they couldn’t even draw blood. Who taught you that?”

Torrhen hesitated for a moment. They hadn’t talked about what happened that day, she had never been in his company long to do so. She had barely spoken to anyone about it after that day.

“My brothers taught me, Ser, and the Master of Arms,” she informed him.

The Kingslayer broke his gaze, processing the information that was given. “Lord Stark let you pick up a sword?”

She nodded. “Not at first, but he relented.”

“There was rumour some years ago that there had been a wildling attack and that someone had been taken hostage, was that you?”

Torrhen trained her stare at the floor, fiddling with the skirts of her dress. Anxiety bloomed in her chest, weighing on her lungs. She hadn’t spoken of that in years, her father forbid anyone mentioning it in Winterfell since it always upset her. Yet, here she stood with the Kingslayer who was picking at her most painful memory. She tried to focus on looking normal, not wanting him to know how much it bothered her to speak about it.

“Why did you watch as four bandits attack me?”

With false bravodo, Torrhen met his eyes once more. They had stopped walking at this point. She was challenging him. She knows she shouldn’t be, there was nothing good that came from asking that question yet she did it anyway.

Torrhen had felt cornered when he asked about the wildling attack years ago, as she always did whenever someone asked about that. Lord Stark had forbidden anyone from speaking about it because of the nervous frenzy Torrhen would fall into once confronted about it. She was using every ounce of her willpower to keep from letting the fear from overwhelming her and dissolving into a mess. She wouldn’t break down here in front of the Kingslayer, she wouldn’t show him that she was weak.

Diverting his attention away was reckless, but necessary for her. She couldn’t talk about it. Even after all these years, where she hoped that the trauma from that day would fade entirely, it still wouldn’t let her go. She had known that when she weakened in front of Greyjoy, or when she cried herself to sleep after the attack in the safety of her bed. It still invaded her mind, and no one knew how to make it go away.

The Kingslayer almost glared down at her, a hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t because he was amused, however. His eyes flashed with something close to anger, and his whole body seemed tense. His hand was curled around the hilt of his sword and she wondered if he was going to use it on her.  

The Kingslayer felt dangerous, and every instinct in her body was telling her to run.

“Let’s not keep the queen waiting.” His words dripped with barely concealed vehemence and Torrhen could only guess why.

The only thing she did know was that the man she was supposed to marry, one of the most dangerous men in the Seven Kingdoms, wanted her dead.


End file.
